Who We Used To Be
by Corpsegirl93
Summary: It's the 21st century, and University student Emily has been having some very weird dreams. What do they mean? Will they ever fade? And who is that mysterious young man?
1. Introduction!

Introduction:

I fall asleep. Then I wake up. I'm back here. Again.

I know where I am, I've seen this place before, but _where_ is it?

I know it's in my mind – this is my frequent dream – but if this place actually exists, where is it on Earth? The sky is black so it must be night-time…no, it's not. There's a man in his dressing gown, standing by his bedroom window, sipping something from a china cup. He sees me, greets me and cries "Good morning!"

So, it's definitely daytime, but why is the sky so dark? Question answered: I must be underground. The floor is mucky. There's a musky smell about the place and when I look at the sky, I see these thick, white tentacles curling about in the sky, wrapping around an invisible cocoon.

Must be tree roots. That would explain the 'underground' theory.

There are buildings all around me. They're old, peeling at the walls, patches of faded paint dotted all over them like an abstract painting. Their doors are wooden, cracked around the hinges and always creaking whenever they move barely an inch. Where is this place?

WHAT is this place? Some kind of purgatory? Seems like it. But what did I do to get here? The only sin worth purgatory that I've committed was missing a deadline for an essay.

It's like the place between life and death. There is life, but it's dead. I'm surrounded by living dead people – skeletons and zombies – but not like the ones in the films. No one's trying to eat my flesh. Not that I have a lot myself.

I'm dead, too.

I'm blue all over. Every inch of my skin is pale blue, my finger nails cracked and muddy – how or why, I don't know.

My hair has changed. It used to be silky, soft and knot-free. Now I feel like I'm wearing a sweeping broom on my head. Dry, tangled, manky – and blue!

Is everything about me blue?

Not quite. My clothes aren't. Though they have changed too. I was in my favourite fluffy pyjamas just moments ago when I turned the bedside lamp off. And now I'm wearing this…this…gown, of some sort. Dirty, torn, rotten. And high heeled shoes, worn-out white with patches of dirt splattered on them. Was I running through mud and rain?

OK, breathe Emily.

Why else would I be surrounded by dim-coloured buildings, and antique wooden coffins? I must be dreaming. What else could it be? No, this isn't a dream, it's a nightmare. This isn't pleasant!

I'm dreaming. I must be. Either that, or incredibly drunk. No I'm not. I had a quiet night in with Charlotte, some films on the Internet, and a take-away pizza, strictly no alcohol.

I remember ordering the pizza. Margarita with extra cheese, half with chicken and red onions, the other with extra cheese and no meat – because Charlotte's a vegetarian – and a side of garlic bread. And it was delicious! Then we watched some cheap, low-budget horror films on the Internet, searched YouTube for random animal videos, laughed our heads off and didn't get to bed until gone midnight.

It's just a dream. I'll wake up in a few hours, get dressed, have some breakfast, watch the news and go to my lectures, write an essay, plan dinner, eat, gossip with Charlotte, watch some TV then go to bed. Just like I do every other day.

Ugh, I need to get out more. What I need is to get rid of this dream. This is the sixth time this month I've had the same dream – so far! Why?! I don't know!

Wouldn't be asking the questions if I knew.

Just try and get some sleep, Emily. It's just a dream.

Isn't it?


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

Gingerbread latte. Or hazelnut? What about vanilla? No, too sweet. And what about cake? Or a biscuit? Victoria sponge? Mince pie? Lemon drizzle cake? Custard cream? Bourbon biscuit? Ugh, decisions!

"Made your mind up?" Charlotte asked.

"Nope" I answered, shaking my head. I kept my eyes firmly peeled on the selection of sweet treats in front of me – talk about temptation. The cashier – who was called 'Melissa' judging by her name badge – was looking at me impatiently, almost like I was her last order before she had to whisk off to meet her 'hot new boyfriend'.

She had that look in her eye, I could tell.

"It's coffee, not Sophie's Choice" Charlotte sighed, picking out the coins from her purse.

Charlotte's my flatmate, and has been for the past eighteen months. She and I met at the University's Open Day, got on like a house on fire, and were reunited when we began our first year. Her wild red curly hair, 5 foot 8 inches stature and energetic attitude seemed to somehow match my brunette, 5 foot 7 inches, creativity and we've been great friends since. We're now second years, sharing a flat, buying coffee from the local shop, people watching in our spare time and always laughing and joking. That's what I love about Charlotte. Her ability to find laughter and joy in the smallest of things – really picks me up when I've had a bad day.

Charlotte is learning to be an actress, and I'm learning to be a professional singer song-writer. No, I don't want to be like Britney Spears. I just want to write music, sing to my heart's content and play a piano til my fingers rot to the bone.

But back to reality. Right now we're standing in the local coffee shop, in the middle of winter, deciding what hot beverage and sweet cake is going to fill our stomachs and warm our chilling bones, though you'd think the millions of winter layers are doing that already.

Long sleeved top, thick sweater, winter coat with faux fur-trimmed hood, jeans with tights on underneath, winter boots, scarf, hat and woollen gloves and we're still cold!

It's December, that's why. We're due back home in about ten days, but for me, Charlotte and a few other friends, we're staying at University for Christmas. My parents despise the cold, so they're away around the world on a Caribbean cruise, with my permission that I'll happily spend the festive season with friends. It would make a change. It's exciting! I'll cook my first turkey, roast the potatoes, pour the gravy and set the pudding on fire. Then eat the leftover turkey in sandwiches and complain about weight gain once January sets in. Ah, adult life.

I'm straying from the point! I'll get back to reality.

"What are you having?" I asked, seeing if it might inspire my taste buds.

"Mocha and a custard cream" she chimed in return, handing the correct change to Melissa.

"Again? Aren't you sick of it by now?"

"True love never fades."

"Your true love is mochas and custard cream biscuits? God, how do you keep your figure?" I moaned in slight disgust. Charlotte always had a high metabolism. She could eat junk food for a fortnight and still wear a ball gown, like a supermodel. Not that I was jealous, but sometimes a girl wishes she can eat all she wants and keep her figure without regrets, and Charlotte had that. Still, I was a size 12, proud of it. I refused to be stick thin with no appetite. I love my food too much, I won't deny it.

"I don't. Winter layers just conceal the hidden fat." Ah! The hidden secret!

"Look, if you don't order soon, I'll order for you." Charlotte added.

"No need, I know what I want. Gingerbread latte and a mince pie please. Seems festive enough" I replied, pulling out a five pound note from my jeans pocket, little bits of lint getting stuck from my winter gloves.

"At last!" Charlotte sighed. "Thought you'd never get there."

I merely glanced at Charlotte, grinning cheekily as I watched her roll her eyes with relief. We watched the barista making our coffees and scooping our cakes in to separate bags like it was a magic trick and we were little kids. Ultimately, we were. Always giggling, smiling and having more fun than others would permit, but we didn't care.

We left the coffee shop behind and decided for the warming walls of our flat, half a mile away. The cakes disappeared before we were two metres away from the coffee shop door. The coffee's usually lasted until a few yards before our front door. Charlotte had started debating over tonight's entertainment, once our essays had been written and we had found the energy to clean the flat from the previous night's take-away food binge.

"Edward Scissorhands or The Nightmare Before Christmas?" Charlotte asked, swirling her coffee cup in minute circles, her other hand in her coat pocket, keeping it warm from the cold.

"Nightmare. I want to sing along to the songs. 'I am the one hiding your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red. I am the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair.'" I began chanting, the catchy tune stuck in my head.

"Yes, thank you Danny Elfman" Charlotte responded sarcastically.

"And what about dinner?" I asked.

"There's some leftover pasta bolognaise and a slice of lasagne from two nights ago?"

"And pudding?"

"Chocolate cookies with tea. What else?" she responded.

I stifled a giggle before a yawn escaped my mouth.

"Tired?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah. Didn't get too much sleep last night."

"But you went to bed at half twelve. And didn't get up until half past ten?" Charlotte looked confused, but I knew she'd figure it out in a few seconds.

"It's the nightmare again, isn't it?"

"Wouldn't call it a nightmare. More of a bad dream."

"The same one?"

"Always is. Can't understand why." I answered, catching sight of our front door, just a few metres away. I could feel the tempting warmth inside just looking at it.

"Maybe you watched something that really spooked you? I read in a book once that your dreams can be based on what you watched, read or listened to the night of the dream. Ring any bells?"

"Nah. I'm alright with scary stuff. The dream doesn't relate to what I've been watching. It's the total opposite. Anyway, I don't wanna talk about it. Let's talk about something else."

"Like your party!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Oh, that."

"Well, don't sound too ecstatic about it" she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Sorry, the caffeine hasn't kicked in yet" I responded, swirling my latte a little more.

"So who have you invited?"

"Uh…" I paused to think. "You, obviously. The girls from my classes, other students that are nearby. Oh yeah, and that dancer girl. Victoria."

"Victoria? Remind me." Charlotte asked.

"Victoria Everglot. Dancing girl. 5 foot 3, light brown hair, always in a bun, wears a lot of pale colours and Lycra leggings. Fantastic figure!"

"Can't say she rings a bell. How do you know her if she's a dancer and you're a singer?" Charlotte asked me.

"Her cousin is doing my course. She came along to one of the recordings two weeks ago, we got talking, we share some similarities and favourite films, etc. Anyway, she added me on Facebook and I invited her a few days ago. You'd like her. She loves Benedict Cumberbatch."

"She can get her hands off him, he's mine!" Charlotte joked.

"Yeah right, and Nicholas Hoult will be proposing to me, any day now" I added, catching sight of our flat, appearing from across the road. I swallowed the last of my latte, savouring the sweetness of the gingerbread syrup, and began rummaging around in my pockets for my house keys.

"I got them! How much work do you have to do?" Charlotte beamed, spontaneously flourishing them from her jeans pocket.

"One essay and a few house chores."

"House chores? The place is spotless…oh hang on, we didn't clear up from last night, did we?" I merely shook my head as Charlotte inserted her key in to the lock.

"Damn…are you volunteering to clean?"

"I'll do it anyway. I need a distraction."

"From the essay?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing that it wasn't the answer.

"No, from the nightmare."

Charlotte pushed our front door open, keeping her eyes on me the whole time we entered the flat.

"Em, if this carries on, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"The dreams…sorry, the nightmares. If they carry on, are you going to do something about them?"

"Like what? See…a dream specialist? A therapist? Why? It's not hurting me in any way, just making me a little tired in the mornings."

"But in all seriousness…" Charlotte looked at me, her eyes like lasers, beaming in to my mind. She could tell I was scared. I was. I am! I know nothing of these dreams and what they mean, but I couldn't stand the idea of seeing a specialist. Is there such a thing as a dream therapist? I looked back at Charlotte, not leaving her gaze as I shut the front door behind us and started removing my winter coat. I answered:

"I don't know, Charlotte. I just don't know."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

The next morning:

I woke the next morning with a fresh feeling. I'd had an undisturbed night. A nightmare free night, thank God! Just as well, lectures began at 10am, and I can't start a day with a foggy head. But my conversation with Charlotte the day before kept ringing in my head.

Even as I walked from our flat to my lecture, note books in my arms, headphones in and iPod on, winter coat and gloves attempting to keep me warm, I could still hear Charlotte's words in my head.

"_What are you going to do?"_

"_Will you do something about them?"_

"_What happens if they never stop?"_

And my answer was still the same as it was yesterday.

"_I don't know."_

Ugh! Why did nightmares have to be so stressful? They're only figments of my imagination that occur when I sleep, then I wake and it's all in the past, forgotten within seconds of re-entering reality. Except these dreams didn't. I could remember every detail of them from the very first nightmare to the latest, two nights ago.

I needed to focus. Think of something other than the dreams. My party? My lectures? Maybe watching where I was walking? I wasn't. As I then realised when I looked up briefly, too late to see another girl approaching me, her eyes on her phone, not looking where she was going. Then suddenly – WHAM! Like Titanic and the iceberg, we collided!

Her phone on the floor, my iPod now separated from my headphones and our study books everywhere! Our immediate reaction was to apologise, so we did.

"I am so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's no worry, I'm to blame. Shouldn't text whilst walking" she replied. It took us a few moments to acknowledge who we were. It wasn't until I scooped my books up and handed her phone to her when I realised who she was.

Victoria Everglot. The dancing, rosy cheeked doll. In this cold and with her complexion, she was flawless. Skin as smooth as a china dolls, mousey brown hair neatly pulled in to a bun, and a pastel pink winter coat that showed off how colourful her cheeks were. All this complimented by her furry black winter boots and navy blue designer jeans. Yep, her parents were loaded and it was reflected in their only daughter!

"Victoria!" I cried.

"Emily! Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

"It's no problem, honestly. I was in a world of my own, I wasn't concentrating."

"Ditto. You on your way to your lecture?" she asked, sliding her phone in to her coat pocket.

"Yeah, starts in about 15 minutes. You off to dance practice?" I asked.

"Yep, practicing our routine, once again." She smiled in response.

"Oh, I meant to ask you a few things" she added, snapping her fingers at the sudden thought.

"Sure, go ahead."

"What time is your party?"

"6:30 onwards. You still coming then?"

"Oh yeah, need to blow off some steam. Dance practice has been a little too stressful lately. So much pressure" she sighed, the winter air frosting her breath.

"Sorry to hear that. But yeah, 6:30. Bring your own booze."

"And on that note of bringing" she chimed.

"Yeah?"

"Can I bring a plus one? My boyfriend. He's studying here too – Art – and when I said I was going, he mentioned he'd be alone that night. Basically, I don't want to leave him whilst I flutter off to a party, so…?"

"Yeah, of course. You can bring him. As long as he respects my flat and doesn't throw up in my bedroom. Or Charlottes, she's my roommate. And she would go crazy and launch an ever-lasting vendetta if he so much pukes near her bedroom door."

"Noted. He doesn't drink, so there won't be a problem. We'll bring some food, if you need it?"

"I won't say no to that" I smiled, then checking my watch. Damn! Ten minutes til lecture, and the building was 5 minute walk away.

"Damn! I'm sorry, I gotta go Victoria. But I'll see you at the party. Tomorrow night. You know my address?"

"Yeah, still got it written down in my diary. I'll see you then" she smiled, quickly embracing me in a hug. We began walking our separate ways before something sparked in my mind. I quickly whooshed round to see Victoria disappear in to the morning December mist, and called out:

"Victoria?!"

She looked round to see me.

"Yeah?"

"What's your boyfriends name? So I can tell Charlotte." I called out, not caring if other students regarded us with a grumpy 'too-early-in-the-morning-to-be-awake' glance.

Victoria ignored the students that passed her and, clapping her hands round her mouth to call back, cried out in response:

"His name's Victor!"

Later that night:

Here we go again.

Tonight is not a nightmare free night. So, where are we starting from tonight? The streets again? Oh, no. Not this time. I'm in a large room, the ceiling high and walls cracked. There's a stage at the far end of the room, a piano to its left, tables and chairs spread all over the place. And a bar, too, equipped with tankards, stools, and beer pumps. I'm in a pub!

A nice colourful pub, with a band on the stage. A band of four skeletons, one wearing a black bowler hat and missing an eye. The other three are identical – no skin, bones as white as snow, no eyes, no organs, nothing! There's more than those four skeletons in here. There are dozens surrounding me, all the same. Some of the people here look like they've been dug fresh from the grave. Their clothes are musty, slightly faded, covered in specks of dirt, but still in good condition. They're all holding on to a drink of some sort – beer, wine, spirits – and looking towards me, smiling proudly with such delight that their remaining teeth glisten. In order to blend in and not make it obvious that I'm freaking out, I smile in return. It isn't until one corpse _bends down_ to face me, that I realise I'm kneeling on the ground.

Once again, I'm surrounded by dead people. Except one.

Lying by my knees…is a living man. A real living man! A man dressed in a smart black suit – torn on one shoulder – a brown waistcoat, dusty blue tie, shoes dampened with melted snow, his near black hair hanging limply over his face.

He has flesh, a heartbeat; I can feel his body heat as he slowly breathes. His eyes are closed in a peaceful state, stretched out across the floor like it's his own bed. Weird! What's he doing here? I go to check his pulse, to see if he is well – maybe everyone's crowding around him because he's near death and they want to see him when he wakes up? I don't know! I go to check his pulse, placing my right hand by his right leg to balance myself and stretching out my left hand to reach his….holy crap!

My left arm is skeletal! No blue skin, no rotting flesh, a little bit of faded white cloth from my elbow to wrist. Looks like it used to be a glove. That's not what took me by surprise, though. It was the gold wedding ring on my finger, glistening like a new diamond, that grabbed my attention. That wasn't there before. The last dream I had, I can't recall a wedding ring on my finger. So this is new.

Forgetting about the mans pulse, I drew my hand back and held it close to my face. Though it had no diamonds or any embellishment that dazzled me, the gold ring was beautiful. The way it caught the light had me mesmerized. It completely distracted me from my bony fingers, the corpses around me and the man on the floor…who was waking up!

His eyelids just fluttered and his fingers are twitching. I bring my hand down to my side, finally pulling away from my bedazzlement, and silently watched him as his eyes fluttered open. To my right, a skeleton dressed in a plush plum coloured velvet robe, smoking pipe in hand chimed:

"A new arrival!"

What? What did that mean? 'A new arrival'? In to the Underworld? Must be. I didn't care to think…because just then, the man clasped his eyes on me, stunned and surprised to see himself surrounded by corpses.

'Join the club pal!' I thought. He stared at me, almost enchanted. I looked back at him, gazing at his defined features. His pointy chin, his wild brown eyes, pale pink lips, and smooth skin – no facial hair or stubble. He looked to be barely past twenty years old. I decided to break the silence between us both. Gently reaching my left hand out to him, I asked softly:

"Are you alright?"

He didn't get the chance to respond. He had barely opened his mouth…before I heard this weird beeping noise, like an alarm. And suddenly…

I had woken up! My eyes were wide open, the morning sunlight breaking through my window. My alarm clock chimed, its noise had roused me from my dreams.

"Ugh, just when things were getting interesting!" I moaned.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

The following night:

It's official. I am now 21! No longer a child, but a young woman. I feel the same though; nothing huge has changed in the hours since I left 20 behind.

And the party is in full swing! I'm in my room at the moment, just adjusting my top. Feels a little too uncomfortable for me. The party started about 30 minutes ago. It's now nine o clock, the sound of Gerard Way's 'Action Cat' booming out the speakers in my dorm, and the pounding of footsteps dancing along to the beat.

Ugh! Nine o clock and I'm tired already. So much for that double shot of coffee two hours ago. I'm now suffering the caffeine crash.

"_Do you miss me?"_

"_Oooh!"_

"_Cos I miss you!"_

"Oh, I could listen to this song all night"…I think before Paramore starts playing. Ha ha! That's more like it!

"Aint it fun?!" Charlotte sang at my opened door. I turned to see her gripping the doorframe, half swinging like a monkey and half dancing and singing to the music, with half a bottle of cider in her left hand. Yep! She's definitely been drinking!

"You coming or what, birthday girl?!"

"Gimme 2 minutes. I need to change this top. The sequins are too itchy" I moaned.

"You look fine! Hurry up, c'mon. I think there's a guy here who wants to hook up with you" Charlotte teased, taking a swig of her cider, eyes wide to catch my attention – her most obvious sign of intoxication.

"Describe him to me" I asked, opening my wardrobe. "Close the door, would you. Don't want guys to see me change."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and shut the door behind her, drowning out the music.

"Taller than you, well-styled hair, brownish blonde colour, blue and white pin-striped shirt, well-groomed to my eye."

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Craig…I think…or Graham…or was it Justin? Shit, can't remember" she shrugged, taking another gulp of cider.

"Does he study here?" I asked, picking out a white sweetheart top, with traces of lace and pearls across the bodice. Sleeveless, of course, and just a little bit sexy with my dark blue skirt and silver heels.

"Think so…yeah…what does he study…astrology! Bit of a fit geek" Charlotte giggled infectiously. I smiled as she plonked herself at the foot of my bed, seeing her catch sight of me change my top.

"Does it look good?" I asked Charlotte. She didn't reply. She simply stared at me, wide eyed like a dog faced with a mountain of tennis balls.

"I'll take that as a yes" I muttered. "OK, ready!"

Moments later, we were shutting the door behind us and re-entering the party. Some cheered as they saw me emerge, some just stared (not at my face though) and others cried "Happy Birthday!" I smiled in return; I knew they wouldn't hear me say "thank you" not with the music at THIS volume! Charlotte wandered off in to the crowd – there must've been 40 people here, in this tiny place. All crammed together like sheep.

I managed to squeeze through and get to the kitchen, where all the drinking was taking place. I caught sight of Marcus, one of my fellow music buddies, looking around confused, a bottle of white wine in his hand.

"Em! Where's the cork screw?" he asked, seeing me approach.

"In the sink" I called. "You having fun?"

"Yeah!" he replied, trying to get the cork out of the bottle. "You?!"

"Yeah!"

"You changed!"

"You noticed?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, course! That top looks _**way**_ better than the other one. No offence."

"You're gay; I take it as a compliment." I smiled, grabbing a cup and pouring some white wine in.

"Seen anyone nice yet?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question".

"Nope! All taken! Or douchebags!"

"Nah, who needs men?! I got you and Charlotte."

"I'll drink to that!" Marcus clinked his bottle with my cup, taking a generous swig from it.

"Mind you" he added "have you seen Victoria Everglot's boyfriend?"

"No. Didn't know they arrived."

"'Bout ten minutes ago. God, how she got him, I'll never know."

"Why?"

"He's gorgeous! Wouldn't be surprised if he was model."

"And taken. Lucky Victoria" I sighed. Don't get me wrong, being single was great! But every now and then, a girl can wish for some male companionship…in a matter of speaking.

Uh, friendship and company, not sex!

"Better go and see them both. Gotta be a good hostess" I made my excuses for leaving Marcus, and starting heading back to the living room, where the party was in full swing.

Finding Victoria wasn't hard. She was helping herself to the party snacks, right next to the kitchen door so I saw her as soon as I left. She caught sight of me, casually munching on a carrot stick and smiled.

She was looking gorgeous! She was wearing a tight knee-length sexy purple dress, complete with black platform heels and her hair was up in its usual bun. Come to think of it, I'd never seen her with her hair down. Weird!

"Em! Happy Birthday!" she cried, opening her arms to hug me.

"Hey! Thank you" I smiled, hugging her in response. "Having fun?"

"So far. Only just got here. Been looking for the drinks."

"Right through here" I showed her through to the kitchen. "Is Victor here?"

"Yeah, left him with his classmates. A few art boys here tonight."

"He's studying Art?" I asked, intrigued.

"Yeah. Fine art, paintings and that." She shrugged, grabbing a bottle of some sort of vodka mixer drink.

"Wow. Never known a guy to be interested in Art."

"You know much about it?" Victoria asked, popping the cap off her bottle and reaching for a bottle of beer.

"Just from A Level at school. Abstract, cubism, pop art, Vincent Van Gogh, Andy Warhol and Lichtenstein."

"More than I know. You haven't met him, have you?" she popped off the cap of the beer bottle – must be Victor's drink.

I shook my head. I caught sight of Marcus, who raised an eyebrow when Victor was mentioned. This was going to be fun, and a little torture. Meeting someone else's boyfriend who was stunning and gorgeous and being reminded how long you've been single. And making you wonder "why?"

"No, I haven't."

"I'll introduce you. He needs to meet the birthday girl."

She led me out of the kitchen, weaving in, out and around the other party guests. We caught a few glimpses off of some guys, but by the time they could give us a smile, we were long gone.

I didn't need to see which guy Victor was. It was so obvious. His back was turned to me, but I could tell by the creases in his shirt that he was pretty well-toned. Maybe a little skinny, but Marcus was right. He was very well-groomed. His hair was trimmed so neatly and his shirt was crisp and clean. He held himself so proudly – great posture! Damn! Lucky Victoria!

But anyway, Victoria went ahead and greeted him with his drink. She smiled to him and looked in my direction. I couldn't hear her over the music, but I could see her lips forming the words: 'birthday girl' and 'meet her'. He nodded briefly and took his drink from Victoria's hands. Oh, here we go. Now to be boasted about how good-looking he is, just by turning around…

He turned around to face me…

He…

No!

It…can't be!

"Victor. This is Emily, the birthday girl."

That face! I'd seen it before…and I knew where. I was getting an incredible sensation of déjà vu, except this time…he wasn't wearing a torn suit, and he wasn't lying on the ground.

And I wasn't a dead bride.

It was him! The man from my dreams! The music seemed to stop; it drowned out and became total silence, and all the dancers and students disappeared, leaving just to two of us together.

I realised just how much my mouth was ajar, and how wide my eyes were. I was in shock!

Could it be?

"Emily" he muttered, smiling.

"Victor" I said, not sure what else to say. He offered a hand forward, his eyes never leaving mine. They were almost burning in to my skull, like he was trying to read my mind ad know what I was thinking,

Good luck! Even I didn't know what to think.

I'm being faced by a fictitious man that I've seen only in my dreams.

"Great to meet you." He broke the silence between us. GOD! This was awkward! I had to find an excuse to get away and think to myself.

"Drink!" I randomly blurted out. Realising that I'd left my cup of wine behind in the kitchen – though it was empty – I decided to go back and fetch it.

"Uh, we've got one, thanks" Victoria butted in.

"Yes! No! I meant for me. I need a drink…not tipsy enough…yet!" I smiled awkwardly and ran away, leaving Victor and Victoria staring at me like some sort of lunatic.

Breathe! Breathe! Before I knew it, I was back in the kitchen, leaning over the sink like I might vomit. Thankfully, I didn't.

"You OK babe?" Marcus asked. He was still in the kitchen?

"Fine" I lied.

"Too much to drink?"

"Something like that" again lied.

"Water?"

"Please!" I gasped, seeing he was already holding out a cup of water to me. I took it, swallowed it all in one go! I felt like I was hyperventilating.

I stared in to the sink, finding all the empty cups and odds bits of cutlery (why, I had no idea?! We cleaned it all earlier) but I didn't look at any of them. All I could see was Victor's face, looking back at me like…like…I don't know…god I was so confused! I needed some air.

Five minutes later, I was outside, sitting on a random bench a few feet away from the dorm entrance. The music was still pounding away, its beat resonating through the whole building and through my body. The cheers and rubbish karaoke singing of my party guests could be heard from miles away. I leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands and breathing deeply. Man, it was freezing. Didn't feel it, though. It pricked the edge of my skin but it didn't freeze me to the bone. I sat there like it was a sunny summer's day, not caring for the looks I got from any passers-by.

Eventually, I calmed down and was plucking up the courage to walk back inside and see the party through, without facing Victor or Victoria for the rest of the night. Now it was nearly ten o clock. How many more hours left until everyone starting piling out? How many hours until Charlotte and I got to sleep? We'd have to clean the place before bed, and that would take time, and a lot of bin bags! I reckoned 5 hours, at the most. Ugh! So glad I don't have a lecture tomorrow.

His face! Ugh, go away!

But there was no denying it. It was him. Victor was the man from my dreams. The only difference being the time, place and clothes. Otherwise, his features were perfect in every way. But the way he looked at me. It was haunting, mesmerizing, and a little seductive. The way he looked at me in every possible way. Every inch of my face, my hair, my body, like he was comparing me to…to what? What was thinking?

I know now what I'm thinking. The cold has got to me, and now I'm freezing my arse off! Damn this short skirt, and why did I not wear tights?!

Taking a deep breath in, I mustered up the courage to drag my body off the bench and started walking inside…

And there he was! Walking out of the doors, heading towards me, his eyes focused on me, something in his hand.

"Emily" he said.

I froze on the spot. I couldn't think of anything else to do. I couldn't run away or go back to the bench. My only option was stand still and act calm. He approached me, urgency in his eyes and in his voice.

"Hey Victor" I said, casually.

"Your friend Marcus said you were out here."

"Did he? Oh yeah, course" I smiled weakly.

"Um…listen…I want to talk to you…about something."

"OK" I said, suspiciously. At that point, he held out what he had in his hand. A small neon green piece of paper. To be precise, one of the post-it notes that Charlotte and I stick on the fridge as reminders, or for fun.

"It's my number" he said.

"Your number?" I asked suspiciously.

"Yep" he nodded.

"You have a girlfriend, you know." I reminded him. If he was trying it on with me whilst he was with Victoria, he could think again!

"I know" he added, still holding out the piece of paper. Reluctantly, I took it. Maybe accepting it would get me some answers?

"So…?"

"So…"

"So what? What do I need your number for if you're not cheating on Victoria?"

"It's complicated" he answered, looking around like he was afraid he might get caught.

"What is? What are you talking about? What are trying to achieve by giving me this?" I nearly yelled.

"I told you. It's complicated" he repeated.

"Ugh! What is?" What he said next stunned me.

"You've seen me before, haven't you? Before tonight. Which is impossible, because Victoria only invited me yesterday. Before tonight, we've never known each other. Or have we?"

"What are you talking about?" I whispered. He took a step closer, so close that I could see the breath in front of his face. His eyes were darker than I had registered – richer in colour, so deep they were like an abyss. Now he was whispering to me, his voice hushed low so only I could hear it…oh boy, it was so seductive!

"You know what I'm talking about. But I can't talk about it now. Not tonight. That's why you have my number. Call me soon. I need to talk to you about certain things."

And with that, he walked back inside, leaving me standing in the winter cold with the post-it note in my hand and a million questions running through my head.

What 'certain things'?


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

He had left me in the cold with his phone number in my hands! This was so strange. For hours after, I kept wandering what Victor meant by 'certain things'.

About 2 minutes later, I had followed him in, tucking the post-it note down my top so I wouldn't lose it – because no man was going to venture down there that night! He left around 2am, Victoria slowly limping behind him because her heels were giving her pain. He avoided me the entire night – much to my appreciation – I didn't want this strange occurrence to disrupt my party. Sounds selfish, but you only turn 21 once!

So the morning after, once Charlotte and I had finished cleaning up and having lie-ins, I dropped him a text.

"_So…where and when shall we meet? Emily"_ He replied five minutes later with:

"_Frothy Coffee, tomorrow, 5pm. V"_

Luckily, I knew what he was referring to. 'Frothy Coffee' is the name of the coffee shop where Charlotte and I go every day, and it would be my second visit that day.

So here I am. 5 o clock and waiting. Sitting in the coffee shop, twiddling my thumbs. Literally. My hands were so frozen from the cold; I was doing anything and everything to keep them warm. I had ordered a hot chocolate, without cream and marshmallows to keep me warm. The cashier smiled at me, recognising me from that morning when I made my way to my lecture, my usual cup of coffee in my hand. She brought me my hot chocolate and watched me smile with delight as I cupped my hands around the mug and sighed as the heat instantly warmed them. She walked away, smiling, leaving me to sip it gently and keep my eyes focused on the doors. And then I saw Victor.

He arrived at the entrance doors, and immediately saw me. Wasn't hard, I was dressed all over in colours. Red winter coat, purple hat, royal blue gloves, black jeans and chocolate brown boots. And pink lipstick! He was looking as fresh and groomed as before. Now he was wearing a navy blue jumper over a white shirt, with dark blue jeans, some scuffed brown shoes and a smart black winter coat with black leather gloves and a navy blue scarf. But still, he looked gorgeous!

What was scary was seeing him again, and realising this was all real! It wasn't another bad dream; I hadn't had one since before the party – thank God! Yet, here he was. Like he had stepped straight out of my mind, changed his clothes and was now facing me.

"Emily" he said, immediately taking the seat opposite me. "Thanks for meeting me…again." I chuckled a little.

"You make this sound like a job interview, Victor." But then I became serious. "It's not. What you said last night really freaked me out."

"I know, I'm sorry. Once I had left, I realised how strange it sounded. You understand?"

"I would understand if I knew what you were talking about. And don't say 'it's complicated', I've had enough of that already" I moaned.

"OK sorry" he apologised, bowing his head slightly. "So…" he continued.

"So? What is this about? Last night, you told me that I'd seen you before, but not face to face."

"That's true, yes. I did say that."

"Why?" I asked, sipping my hot chocolate, then realising I was being discourteous. "Sorry, you want a drink?"

"No thanks. I had a tea before I left. Besides, I don't want to stray from the point and get distracted, so I'll go ahead."

"….OK" I said, a little concerned.

He sighed, then looked up at me straight in to my eyes and spoke.

"You've been having some weird dreams lately. They came out of nowhere. You can't explain them or what happens in them. All you know is that this is nothing like any other dream you've had. And unlike any other dream you've had, you remember these ones. Firstly, you're not yourself. You're someone else, in a different place you don't recognise, surrounded by these weird people you don't know, yet they greet you like you've known them your entire life.

You wake up, carry on with your day, then the dream happens again. But this time, it's different. It's like a film in your head and each nightmare is a different scene. The first is the opening title, the second is the beginning and so on. Each dream is different yet they're linked. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

I hesitated. He had just explained everything that had happened to me and in my dreams over the past few weeks. I didn't reply, he could tell by the startled look on my face that he knew he was right.

"Of course you do. Because you've been having these dreams too, haven't you?" he added.

"WHAT?!" I screeched, startling everyone in the coffee shop. Feeling their gazes upon me, I hushed down, sipped my hot chocolate and looked directly at Victor.

"You mean…you too?" I asked, close to whispering.

"Yep. Me too. For about 2 weeks now."

"How? I mean, are yours the same as mine? More importantly, why are you telling me this?"

"I told you, before the party I had seen you before. That's true. I've seen you in my dreams. Except you're very different in them. You're dead, to start things of."

"And wearing a wedding dress – I know" I added.

"Yeah. And you're blue. That's all I know about you. I haven't had a dream since the night before your party."

"What happened in it? The last dream" I asked, leaning forward.

"Not a lot. It only lasted for a few seconds. The dream before the last one, you were chasing me, through some dark woods. You were pursuing me, shouting after me calling 'darling, where are you going?' I ran faster and faster before I turn around and you were gone. I thought I had gotten rid of you, so I started walking away but then I turn around and you're there. The next thing I know, you put your hands on my shoulders, and say 'you may kiss the bride'. Then you leaned forward to kiss me, and then I woke up."

"Yeah…I remember" I nodded. "OK…but why was I calling you 'darling'?"

"Dunno. Maybe you thought…I was your husband? Or boyfriend?"

"A ha! Great idea" I chuckled sarcastically.

But then I realised, he may have a point.

"Actually, that might be true. It explains the wedding dress and the ring on my finger. Doesn't explain why I'm dead though. What about the most recent dream, what happened in that?"

"I woke from the blackout; saw you towering over me..." Victor explained, before I cut him short.

"Admiring the wedding ring, as you lay unconscious on the floor of a pub…in the afterlife. That's what I saw."

"So, it all fits?"

"It would appear so" I sighed. "You and I are having the same dreams. I can't believe this. This is too surreal."

"I know" Victor scoffed, resting back in his chair.

There was silence between us for a few minutes. We both drifted off, me thinking about everything that had happened in every single dream since it all began. There were so many, and each one had a story of their own.

The first had begun roughly two weeks ago. At first, I thought it was just a fear, a fear of being buried alive. That's what happened. I woke in the dream to find myself underground in the dark surrounded by soil, tree roots holding me in place and my fear of claustrophobia slowing seeping in. I woke up then and there, thinking it was a one-off bad dream.

The next one came two nights later. I fell asleep, woke up underground and started hyperventilating. Then I heard a voice from above. A man's voice. He was talking, to who or what, I don't know. Next thing I know, I'm rising from the ground towering over this man on the floor. We were in some woods, and I had just risen from the roots of an oak tree. I woke up then. The next night, I'm back in the woods, watching the man run away and I started chasing him. I chase him through these woods until we reach a stone bridge, surrounded by a river, a church and a small village behind it. I found the man on the bridge, his face turned away from me. He was looking around frantically, then turned to come face-to-face with me. I found myself placing my hands on his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. Then I went blank. The next dream was in the pub, with Victor at my feet and me realising that I was in a wedding dress. Oh my god!

"This all makes sense. You were the man in the woods."

"I was. You remember that, don't you?"

I nodded, it's all I could do. I was too shocked to talk anymore.

"It's like a creepy story time." Victor joked.

"It's too creepy!" I finally managed to say.

"So…what now?"

"What do you mean 'what now'?" I asked.

"What do we do next?"

"You're confusing me."

He stared at me for a second, trying to read the expression on my face. I felt SO tempted to jump out and scream BOO! just to see how he would react. He was so focused and intent on looking at me, the temptation was too much. Though sadly, he began talking before I had the chance to play my little joke.

"Don't tell me you're not just _a little_ bit interested in _why_ we are having these dreams? No? Seriously?"

"I dunno. They're just dreams. Figments of our imagination" I shrugged.

"That happen to be the exact same as someone else's? Come on. This isn't fiction Emily; we're not living in a fantasy world. This is real life, and these dreams are freaking me out. And I know they are for you too. You won't say it, but I can see it in your eyes."

I said nothing. Leaning back in my chair, I sipped the last of my hot chocolate, swallowing it quickly and avoiding his gaze. He sighed, obviously annoyed with my silence and shyness.

"Right…well…in case you change your mind, you have my number. You can sit there and deny it all you want, but I'm doing something about this. I'm getting sleepless nights over these dreams and they are screwing up my studies. I can't have that. So if you want to carry on living like nothing is the matter, then fine. But I'm doing something about it."

And with that, he got up and walked away, leaving me there with the mug in my hand and chocolate around my lips. He did have a point. Sleepless nights, struggling with studies, concern from Charlotte. All because of those dreams. He disappeared out of sight, briefly looking over his shoulder to catch my eyes. Oh God, he was right. These dreams were freaking me out…but unless I did something about them, they'd carry on haunting me. And for how long, I didn't know but I didn't want to find out. Ugh! So that left me with one option.

One hour later:

_Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring_…

"Hello?"

"It's Emily."

"Emily, hi."

"Listen Victor, this has been really weird and so unreal!"

"Again, I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

"Never mind. But I hardly know you and the idea of this sounds ridiculous…however…"

"However?"

"If it means I can get some answers, some extra sleeping hours and not screw up my studies…then I guess we can…you know…"

"You don't need to say anymore, I know what you'll say."

"Good, thank you. So…where shall we start?"

"Libraries. And Google."

"You already know. Have you prepared for this?"

"I've been researching since the second dream. I'm way ahead! I'm on the computer right now, looking for answers."

"Any luck?"

"Nope. Nothing much."

"OK, I have a lecture to get to now and singing lessons after, but if you find anything, text me."

"I will. Thanks, Emily."

"Don't mention it" and then I hung up. And so it begins!

Later that night:

Ugh, right on time! What is this time? OK, let's be having you nightmare!

Where am I? I'm still in the pub, but now I'm standing up and leaning against the bar counter. The man...Victor…Victor is standing about ten feet away from me, clutching an old war sword with…with a dwarf general attached to it, the tip of the blade protruding from his bony chest, his ribs exposed through rotten and festered uniform.

"What's going on here? Where am I?" Victor started crying, looking around at everyone. Everyone. They were skeletons, living corpses, all dressed in fancy clothing and all dead yet very much alive. Victor then turned to me, saw me looking at him and directed his next question at me.

"Who are you?"

I didn't know what to say. I could easily say "you don't know me? Victor, it's me. Emily" or I could say "you'll find out soon" but instead, I said:

"Well…" everyone's gaze slowly turned to me; I could feel my dead cheeks burning.

"That's kind of a long story" I sighed. Then came this gruffly voice. Upon hearing it speak, everyone turned their attention to a stage, cloaked in blackness apart from one little spotlight that shone on a single skeleton, wearing a black bowler hat, his arms folded across his chest and his head bowed.

"What a story it is" he said. The spotlight shone on him like a light from heaven – so bright and overpowering. The skeleton lifted his head to greet the light, knowing it was his cue to begin.

"A tragic tale of romance, passion…and murder most foul!" he spoke. Oh God, he was talking about me. I was about find out how I died.

"This is gonna be good" the dwarf general said, prompting Victor to drop him accidentally, the small sound of bones clattering to the floor and the sword ringing out, as Victor looked down apologetically. The skeleton – who had one eye – rolled it from one eye socket to the next and flicked a bony wrist towards the stage, where three other skeletons had just appeared out of nowhere.

"Hit it boys!" he commanded.

WHAM! The world around me dissipated. And I was back in my room, chilled from the winter air and my pyjamas not keeping me warm enough. I sat upright, looking at the time: 6:30am. I only had 90 minutes left until my alarm went off. In a sudden fit of rage, I grabbed my pillow, bunched my fingers around its fluffy corner and hurled it across the room.

"Goddamnit!" I yelled, watching it crumple to the floor as I ran my fingers through my messy bed hair. It was at that single moment that my phone rang. Evidently, I forgot to switch it off before bed and now it rang. Voicemail, probably. Or a prank call. Nope! It was Victor. His caller ID flashed up on the screen as I retrieved my phone. There was only one explanation as to why he was calling me this early. I answered:

"You just woke up?"

"Yep" he answered.

"What did you see this time?" I asked.

"Skeletons, dead people, as usual. And some weird dwarf stuck on a sword…that was in my hands!"

"Snap" I responded.

"We were so close. So close to finding out how you died" he cursed.

"Oh cheers" I cried sarcastically.

"You know what I mean."

"Well…I guess it gives us a clue. Evidently, my character was murdered, so I'd better start looking for people who died…when are these dreams set?"

"Looks rather Victorian-esque to me, judging by everyone's clothes."

"Right, we'll discuss this further later today. I'll meet you later. When's your last lecture?"

"It finishes at 4 o clock." He answered.

"Right, meet me in the library for 4:30. And bring coffee! I'll be needing it now that I've lost two sleeping hours."

"Extra strong coffee, and biscuits. See you then" he moaned, shutting off the call and leaving me in my deathly-quiet room. I held my phone in my hands, and fell back down in to bed, then remembering that I had tossed the pillow away when my head hit the mattress, expecting to find the pillow there.

"Damn it" I silently cursed. I tried to get back to sleep, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Later that day at 4:35pm – Student Library.

As expected, the library is deathly silent. Only the sound of brief coughing, a sneeze, pages turning and typing on the computer keyboard can be heard. And even the occasional fart from the guy three tables away from me. You'd think he would be embarrassed or ashamed, but he's not. He smirks every time. Thank God I can't smell them from over here.

Victor is five minutes overdue, though I got here early – about fifteen minutes ago. I'm sitting at the computer, fingers poised over the keyboard, Google staring back at me, unsure of what to type in to the search engine. I've already been on Facebook countless times, updated my Twitter profile AND answered all of my emails. I've even watched a few funny videos of animals on YouTube. But now I'm here, I should do some work.

So I typed in "recurring dreams" – over one million results, ugh!

Then "unusual dreams" – 45 million results? Jay-sus!

Then "mysterious dreams with a meaning" – 58 MILLION?!

This wasn't getting any easier. But that's when Victor appeared from behind me.

"Hiya!" he chirped, taking me by surprise. I jumped in surprise, almost screaming.

"Don't do that to me!" I said, realising I was a bit too loud for the library.

"Sorry" Victor whispered. "Peace offering?" He then brandished a packet of Jammie Dodger biscuits and a large flask, presumably filled with that extra-strong coffee I had asked for.

"Fine" I whispered, pulling out the chair next to me and letting him sit. He caught sight of the computer screen, and turned to me.

"Started without me?" he asked.

"Hardly. I've been on YouTube since I got here. That was twenty minutes ago."

"Sorry I'm late" he mumbled.

"S'OK" I shrugged. "Right, to work."

"Then what happened?" Victor asked, biro poised in his hand, ready to scribble more notes on his paper pad. I was sitting still, eyes closed, trying to remember ever detail of last night's dream. I could picture every detail of it in my mind, from the colour of the walls to the shape of the alcohol bottles behind the bar.

"Then the skeleton rolled his eye to his other eye socket, flicked his right hand and said 'Hit it boys'. Then the dream was over."

"Exactly" Victor agreed, scribbling down more notes. "That's exactly what I saw too."

"Do you think we'll find out more tonight?" I asked. "Or whenever the next dream decides to turn up."

"Hopefully we shouldn't wait too long for that to happen. They occur every two nights, don't they?" he asked me in return. I simply nodded.

"Roughly, yeah. So we have to wait until tomorrow night? I can't wait that long."

"I'm sorry, Emily. I don't control these things. If I did, we wouldn't be having these dreams in the first place."

"I know, sorry. I guess I'm suffering the coffee crash." I sighed, tipping my coffee cup towards me and seeing the last few cold drops lying there, alone at the bottom.

"At least you'll sleep tonight."

"Guess so. Shall we do more work, or call it a day?" I suggested.

"Let's call it a day. I've got plans with Victoria tonight."

"Oh, what?"

"Nothing special. Dinner, movie, home."

"Sounds great to me. Thanks for the coffee and biscuits, by the way. Glad you remembered" I smiled, logging off the computer.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked.

"What?"

"Shall we do this again tomorrow? More research?"

"Oh…sure, why not! No plans with Victoria tomorrow night, then?"

"No, she's visiting home so I'm free."

"Right then. Same time tomorrow. Just different biscuits" I giggled, packing up my stuff and leaving the library.

"Any requests?" Victor asked, throwing his jacket on and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"You choose. You've done enough already, I'll let you choose the biscuits" I chuckled.

"Oh, I'm honoured" Victor smiled cheekily, looking at me and smiling.

Couldn't tell if he was flirting with me or just being nice. God! I hope he wasn't some sort of womanizer. Nah, too kind and shy to be a womanizer. Still, could be a little more excited about spending time with Victoria. Didn't sound like he was overjoyed about it. Maybe this work has just tired him?

"I'll bring the coffee next time. Or would you prefer hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate sounds amazing" he smiled, as we left the library, letting the winter air hit us in the face.

"I'll call you then" he added, turning to me as he put his winter gloves on.

"Sure. That'll be great" I smiled, wrapping my scarf around my neck.

"See you later". He turned away from me and started walking away, turning around briefly to see me watching him walk away. His jacket made him look so skinny, but I knew there were muscles under that coat. Muscles that would make any girl weak at the knees. Oh, shut up Emily! He's got Victoria. With that thought on my mind, I left the library behind and walked back to my flat, a cheese and ham omelette in my mind for dinner.

Later, elsewhere:

Beth typed in her number, put the phone to her ear and waited for a response. It picked up after three rings.

"Beth, hey!" Victoria answered. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Um, weird question. What's Victor up to today?"

"Um, he had lectures and then he said he was going to the library to do some research."

"Research?" Beth questioned.

"Yeah, for his studies I assume."

"OK. It's just…it may be nothing, but…I've just seen him leave the library with that singer girl. The one who had her 21st a few days ago."

"Emily? So what? Every student goes to that library. They probably bumped in to each other." Victoria replied.

"Yeah, probably…but…but…I don't want to alarm you or anything but…"

"Spit it out Beth. You're making me nervous."

"Before they left, he said he'd call her. And she said 'OK, that'll be great'. Then they left."

"…OK. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're my best friend, and I'd hate to think Victor was mucking about…"

"I'm sure he isn't" Victoria interrupted, rather sternly.

"OK, just thought you'd like to know" Beth added. "I'll see you later." She smiled, awaiting Victoria's reply. She only got:

"Bye" before the phone went dead.

Author's note: Sorry for the delay! Been really busy lately with travelling, work, college and general things of life! Have no fear, this story shall continue! :D


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

"_**There's just something about you I know, started centuries ago."**_

I had arrived early. Largely because my last lecture was cancelled and because Charlotte had her boyfriend visiting, so they had occupied the flat until he got his train home later tonight. So here I was, singing along to my iPod – though I really shouldn't – I'm in the library and I keep forgetting their silence policy. But I can't help it! Music is too infectious, I can't help but sing. The time is nearly three o clock.

More research on Google suggested that 'dreams often held vital information like: dates, people, times and certain events.' So, with this in mind, I decided to scour the newspaper section. The library had a catalogue of newspapers that stretched back to the early 1800's. It was interesting to flick through some and see articles on 'Jack the Ripper' and the Second World War. I nearly got side-tracked reading an article on the Ripper's second victim, Annie Chapman, but then I was snapped back in to reality and carried on searching.

The dreams seemed rather dated –the majority of the dead people were wearing old-fashioned clothes, and from my recollections, they looked Victorian. Top hats, monocles, smoking pipes, tailor made trousers and coats. It all seemed to fit. I felt I was about to come across some vital evidence that would unravel these secrets and mysteries.

That's why I chose the newspapers. Secrets on paper. Every newspaper published from New Year 1800 was sorted in a giant, black leather bound folder, separated by plastic wallets and categorised chronologically.

I decided to start when the Victorian era began. 20th June, 1837. The day Queen Victoria was placed on the throne. I had more than 60 years of history, and I had to go through every day of it! Ugh! OK then, the Summer of 1837…nothing.

Winter 1852? Nothing!

New Year's 1867. Still nothing. What was I even looking for? Articles on the living dead? A dead bride with a living man? The after-life on Earth? Yikes!

I checked the time – 16:20. Blimey, that had gone quickly. Victor will be here soon, and I'd love to greet him with some new information. Something to set our minds at rest. But this was like searching for a needle in a haystack…as big as London…when the needle was microscopic!

But then…I found it! My luck was finally here! But this delight was more for Victor, not me. Regardless, with a giant smile on my face, I grabbed my notebook and took down the details of the newspaper – title, date, page number and who wrote the article. Then Victor showed up. I saw him coming. The newspaper section in the library looks out on to the main staircase and I saw him walking up, looking for me. He caught sight of me, and with my free hand, I waved at him, the other hand steadying myself on the table. Using my notebook as a bookmark, I shut the newspaper catalogue on top of it and greeted Victor with a smile.

"Thought I'd find you here" he whispered, dropping his bag by the table. "Garibaldi."

"What about him?" I asked.

"No, biscuits. Garibaldi biscuits, hope you like them. And, tea." He smiled, pulling out the giant familiar flask from yesterday and a brand new packet of biscuits.

"Oh, I see. Good choice. You alright?"

"I am, yes…and judging by your smile…I guess I don't need to ask you the same question…have you found something?" he asked, his eyes lighting up, like a dog being presented with the biggest tennis ball it'd ever seen.

"Depends what 'something' is." I teased. "I did find something, a little trace of history…but I don't know what you'll make of it."

"…How bad is it?" he asked, assuming it was tragic news.

"Not bad at all. I'm just awaiting your response" I said. I folded my arms and nodded my head towards the giant black folder of newspapers in front of me.

"My response?"

"Victor, how good are you with history?"

"I only know what I learned at school. Henry the Eighth and his six wives, the Gunpowder Plot, the Plague, Jack the Ripper, Titanic and the two world wars. Why?" he shrugged.

"Do you know what happened in 1875?"

"Nope" he shook his head. "Anything important…for us? Is it something to do with our dreams?"

After hearing his answer, I placed my hand on the newspaper folder.

"1875. Ice hockey is played for the first time indoors in Canada. The SS Gothenburg sinks off the coast of Australia. A man called Matthew swims the English Channel for the first time…" then I opened the folder to where my notebook sat, removed it, and turned the folder so Victor could see what I had found. Using my index finger, I pointed at a black and white photo.

"It was also the year that the Van Dort's – a family fishing business in London – engaged their only son to the Everglot's daughter, their local neighbours. This is their engagement announcement. Recognise the bride and groom?"

Victor was silent. Still as a statue. He just stared at the paper in front of him. Moments later, he bent down to take a closer look.

"That can't be right…"

"It must be. How much of your family history do you know?"

"Evidently, not enough…you cannot show this to Victoria!" he blurted out.

"She doesn't even know we're doing this research, where would I even begin in telling her?" I responded, reaching for the packet of biscuits.

"Touché" he whispered back. "This is too weird" he shook his head.

"All of this is weird. Do you think it's linked?" I asked.

"No idea…if this…if this is historically accurate…Victoria and I could be related!"

"I think you're over-stepping the mark, Victor."

"Over-stepping the mark?" he cried out. "I'm looking at my engagement announcement to my girlfriend…in 1875! I married Victoria in a previous life."

"On the bright side…it could be a lead" I shrugged.

"Some lead" he scoffed. "I can't believe it…this seems too…barbaric" he finally looked up at me, tearing his eyes away from the article.

"At least you've got a lead. I still have nothing. Didn't find anything to do with me in any of these newspapers. Not yet anyway."

"Maybe we can focus on that now. I can't look at that photo."

I couldn't blame him. He was looking at a black and white photo of himself AND Victoria, dressed in old-fashioned Victorian clothes, with the title 'Van Dort son to marry' clearly printed in bold black letters. Victoria looked exactly the same as she did in today's world, except today you could see more flesh. In the newspaper photo, every inch of her was covered in clothing, except her hands and face. Well, that was tradition back in those days, wasn't it? And Victor was dressed in a well-tailored suit, complete with tie, waistcoat and combed hair – the complete opposite of what I saw in front of me now.

"Do you think it has any connection? Have you seen Victoria in one of your dreams?" I asked.

"No. The dreams began with me walking through some woods, in the middle of winter…what date is that article?"

"29th November 1875" I responded instantly.

"End of November? There was snow in the woods, wasn't there? Winter time, end of the year…around November and December time, perhaps?" he suggested.

Ping! Another connection!

"You're right. When I chased you, that little lake was frozen over. And there was snow on the tree branches as well. OK, so our dreams are at winter time" I silently rejoiced. "So…how does this help me out?"

"Do you think you were killed in winter?" Victor suggested.

"No. I was too decayed to be freshly buried. I was missing flesh on the entire of my left arm and right leg. And my ribs were exposed. I'd been dead for a while."

"Are there any articles on missing people, from the 1800's?"

"I haven't checked that yet. It took me an hour and a half just to find that article" I sighed, pointing at the folder.

"OK" Victor nodded, slowly taking off his jacket. "You pour the tea and I'll get started on the missing peoples list."

"And what else will I do? Just sit here, sipping tea? I need to do something" I urged.

"OK. Maybe find out more about the Van Dort family from 1875?" he suggested.

"Good idea. Biscuit?"

Two hours later:

"What time does the library shut, Emily?" Victor asked, leaning over from his computer seat.

"Eight o clock" I answered. Prompted by his question, I looked at the time, astonished to see it was half past six. "Any joy?"

"Some. I've found the missing persons list from 1870 to 1880, but the details are rather minor. No suggestion on where they lived, where they disappeared. Just their name and birth date. You?"

"Nothing much…hang on a minute! I tell a lie, listen to this. The Van Dort's were a famous fishing business. They opened their first shop in 1856 close to the coast of Dover, but as business grew and prospered, they opened several other shops around the country. One was located in a little village just outside of London. The village is gone now, it was replaced with a supermarket in 1963. However, the local forest is still standing." And then it hit me.

"Oh my god. The petition to knock down the forest was unsuccessful when it revealed a graveyard…that would be 300 years old now." It was like Victor hadn't heard me properly.

"Victor?" I asked. "Did you hear what I just said? Victor?"

"Sorry…I…I think…"

"What?"

"I think I've found you. Well…the Victorian you" he mumbled.

"Show me" I demanded, leaning over to see the computer screen. Victor leaned back in his chair to show me his discovery. I started reading aloud.

"'The search still continues for 20 year old Emily Hunter, who disappeared from her family mansion on the 15th July. Miss Hunter was last seen by her parents, Lord and Lady Hunter, the evening of the 14th July upon her retirement to bed. On the morning of the 15th, Miss Hunter's maid discovered her chambers empty, the bed slept in, her clothes and possessions missing. In addition to Miss Hunter's possessions, Lady Hunter discovered her bridal gown to be missing from her wardrobe. Lord and Lady Hunter are urging anyone with any information on the nature of their daughter, to come forward to local authorities in the hope for the safe return of their daughter.' Oh my god" I sighed.

"This was in 1873. Wait for it though" Victor added. He clicked a few buttons on the mouse, which opened a single photo of a young Victorian girl, with long wavy locks of dark hair, slim neck and flawless features, wearing pearls and a light coloured dress. It was black and white so it was hard to tell the colour of her clothes. But that didn't matter.

"Almost identical, right?" Victor said.

"Almost" I whispered, barely audible.

I was looking at the ghost of my past. It was scary to admit, but we were very much identical. The girl in the picture – Miss Emily Hunter – was me.

That night:

It seemed logical. To have a nightmare the same day that Victor and I have a 'dream breakthrough', if that's what you'd call it. OK, so where am I now?

I'm sitting on a bench, with Victor to my right, the view of the Land of the Dead stretched out before us. We were on a hill, of some sort, sitting on a rotten wooden bench and there was a box in Victor's hands. A faded, decomposed box with a discoloured red ribbon tied to the top. Victor was shaking it, ever so lightly and I could hear the rumble of something light in there. He set it down on his lap and took the lid off. We both nearly screamed in response, but Victor was more set back than me. I'd seen a dead body before. Well, I say dead body; it was a rotten half-decomposed corpse of a fox that had died in my school ground. So I wasn't too shocked to see a pile of bones and a skull sitting there in the box…with a red strip of fabric.

Victor merely picked up a single bone and looked at me through squinted eyes.

"Thank you" he smiled, obviously creeped out by this ordeal. But then the box started shaking. Almost like there was an earthquake going on inside. The bones shook, Victor placed the lid back on top – why? It was no use. The box tipped over from his lap and the bones spilled out on to the floor. They then shook – again – and assembled themselves, like a magic jigsaw puzzle.

It was a dog! Oh my god, it was a dog! And the strip of red fabric was its collar. Victor was delighted, I could see it in his face as he held the red collar in his hands.

"Scraps!" he cried. "My dog Scraps!"

FIZZ! BANG! Back to reality! 4:25am, and the dream was gone. Quick as that.

I had left my phone on, just in case. I was right to do so. Victor texted me two minutes after I woke up.

"_You gave me a present"_ he said.

"_Did you ever have a dog called Scraps?"_ I texted back. Five minutes passed, no response. But then…

"_Yes. He was hit by a car when I was 12. And he had a red collar."_

The tables had turned. Only ten hours ago we had made a ground-breaking discovery on our dreams…but now things were getting spooky. And it was freaking me out!

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	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Charlotte was waiting outside by closed bedroom door, I could sense her. I could picture her in my mind, in her giant stretchy grey jumper and black leggings, leaning against the door frame so she was the first thing I would see when I opened the door. She wasn't stupid to lean on the actual door.

I could hear the kettle boiling too – she was obviously making a cup of tea, but what would come first? Greeting me at the door or pouring her tea? The kettle clicked, and her footsteps stomped across the carpet. Of course, tea is important!

I chose then to leave my bedroom door and await her confrontation, whatever it concerned. For the time being, I had been lying on my bed, reading the latest fiction book! No, not 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. So, plopping the book on my duvet and walking to the door, I opened it to find Charlotte stirring her tea. She looked up at me, and stared at me for a few seconds, eyes blank and vacant.

"Waiting for me?" I asked, cheekily.

"Isn't there something you want to tell me?" she asked seriously, throwing the tea spoon in the sink.

"Like what?" I responded, shutting my bedroom door behind me. "Oh, hang on, I forgot to tell you. They cancelled Coronation Street tonight because of football."

"No, not that. I knew that already anyway, but thanks. Are you sure there's nothing…going on that you need to talk to me about?"

"You're confusing me, Charlotte. What's going on?"

"…Look, you're my best friend Emily, and I'd hate to think…" she began.

"Just spit it out!" I stopped her. This kind of sympathy talk annoyed me incredibly.

"Are you seeing Victor Van Dort?" I paused, in shock.

"What?!" I screeched. "Victor Van Dort? Like, Victoria's boyfriend?"

"Yes, him. Are you seeing him?"

"As a boyfriend, no. As a friend, yes" I answered honestly.

"As a friend?"

"Yes. Why?"

"It's just…one of my classmates told me, that her friend Beth had seen you and Victor leave the library together, a few days ago. He said he'd call you. When she told Victoria, she made it sound like he was seeing you behind her back."

"No chance. He's not seeing me. We're just meeting up at the library and…doing some research."

"Research?! He studies Art, you study Music…what you researching together?" Charlotte asked casually sipping her tea.

"Something different. It's quite complicated to explain…no, it's…it's a project we're doing. A creative project" I partly lied. It was the truth but it wasn't quite correct.

"A project?"

"Yeah" I nodded. "And he wouldn't do that to Victoria? Did you see them the night of my party?"

"Not a lot. I was hanging out with Marcus for the majority of the night."

"Oh…well they were loved up and head over heels for each other" I exaggerated. Following Victor's comment on how he wasn't jumping for joy at seeing Victoria the other night, I needed to make an exaggeration to keep Charlotte's mind from making the wrong assumptions.

"O…K. So there's nothing going on?"

"Apart from the project, nothing. I promise. And you know me; I never take another woman's man" I added. That bit was true.

"So…Beth was talking bullshit?" Charlotte asked.

"Not necessarily. Yes, Victor and I left the library together but we are NOT seeing each other. Obviously the facts got mixed up as the gossip spread."

"OK" Charlotte sighed.

"Now, is there enough water in the kettle for another mug of tea?" I asked.

Meanwhile:

"But you said you'd call her!" Victoria screeched, rising from her sofa.

"Yes, I did. Because we're doing some research, and calling her on her phone is easier than messaging her on Facebook" Victor replied, watching her pace her flats living room.

"What happened next?"

"We said goodbye, then went our separate ways."

"Then you saw her again yesterday?"

"It's an important project" Victor pleaded.

"What project? You study two completely different subjects, how are you two working together?"

Victor had to think fast. How could an art student and a musician be doing a project, without revealing the strange truth about the dreams?

"It's for one of my dissertations. Emily knows about loads of singers and musicians, mostly piano players. Well, you know how I love to play the piano; I decided to do an 'Art of Music' type project. And she's helping me out."

Victoria was silent. It was a good alibi story, Victor had to admit. Victoria had come out of nowhere with this accusation. One moment, they were on the sofa watching a DVD boxset, then suddenly she comes out with "You remember Emily, from the party?"

Five minutes later, they were arguing, Victoria accusing him of having an affair with another woman. All wrong, but Victor couldn't tell her the truth. Imagine how that would go down?

"Sorry Victoria, but Emily and I have been doing some research about these weird dreams, where apparently she's dead and she follows me around. Cup of tea?"

No way! But she seemed to have taken the bait, though she didn't admit defeat. Victoria had a tendency to avoid eating humble pie. She would never apologise for any accusations she made, even if they were totally wrong.

"OK" she nodded. "How long has this been going on for?"

"Just a few days, a week at the most. We discussed it at the party. That's where I disappeared to after I was introduced to Emily. I followed her outside to ask if she would help me out."

"OK. And there's nothing else going on between you two?" Victoria asked.

"Nothing. We're just students, doing a project together. And I'm sorry if this led you to believe something different, but I've told you the truth. That's all I can do." Victor raised his hands like a surrender, awaiting Victoria's next response. She simply stood there, arms folded, lips pouting as a single strand of lose hair fell across her eyes.

"OK, I believe you. But you can't blame me. A handsome guy like you could have any girl. And Emily is attractive" she claimed.

"But I chose you" Victor smiled. "Out of all the girls this 'handsome guy' could get, I chose you." Victoria smiled, though underneath Victor knew she still had questions. So did he. How are we still together? What do I see in her? Will she find out the truth about Emily and me? He stuffed them at the back of his mind and carried on looking at Victoria, who slowly unfolded her arms and smiled a little.

"OK, you're forgiven" she giggled. Sitting down next to him and snuggling her head on his chest.

"But I didn't do anything wrong" Victor teased.

"Yet" he thought. Haven't done anything wrong, yet! Oh, Emily.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

"OK, let's try it from the second verse" I said.

"Second verse, OK. Uh…which song?" Kyle asked.

"The coffee hasn't kicked in yet, has it Kyle?" Shannon called out. Kyle simply shook his head in response.

"Elan by Nightwish, OK?" I said, adjusting the headphones over my ears.

We – myself, Kyle and our other musician friend Shannon – were in the University's recording studio. For our studies, we needed a recorded single, showcasing each of our skills and talents. Mine being singing, Shannon was our guitarist and Kyle was our editor. We had chosen a song good enough to showcase these talents perfectly – a rock symphonic song that was newly release that showed how to up-to-date we were with the music charts.

"Right, that song. Sorry. I knew I should've ordered a double shot this morning" Kyle added, rubbing his eyes and fighting back a yawn.

"Shouldn't go partying the night before studies, Kyle. Surely you know that?" Shannon chimed, smirking a little.

For a guitarist, Shannon was the complete opposite of the image you would give a rock guitarist. You would picture piercings, tattoos, dark clothing and maybe some thick, heavy boots, heavy eye make-up, a constant drinker, party-goer and chain smoker. But not with Shannon. She could be described as an angel. Light blonde hair near white, with fair skin and pale coloured clothes. Though she always had beautifully manicured nails, which was oddly miraculous considering how others nails would be chipped and cracked from over-playing. And Shannon was a non-alcoholic, vegan, gluten free, diabetic girl with a passion for protesting against fur companies and processed meat factories. Couldn't blame her! But Shannon was the best guitarist I had met by far in my years of studying and we had her on our team! Yippee!

"OK, from the second verse. Ready? Go!" Shannon prompted, picking up her lightning blue electric guitar.

"The answer to the riddle before your eyes, is in dead leaves and fleeting skies" I began to sing in my soprano voice. Soprano, I could hit the high notes and thank goodness, because all of my favourite songs chosen for my studies were sung by a soprano or had some interesting notes to hit.

Kyle – being separate by a thick pane of glass on the other side of the studio – was nodding along to our tune, closing his eyes occasionally to listen to the melody. Singing gave me such freedom, it let me express all ranges of emotions and feelings whenever I desired.

"Great stuff guys!" he called.

"Shall we try another song?" I asked. Kyle didn't respond, neither did Shannon. He still held his thumbs in the air but his attention was now drawn to someone standing outside the studio doors. They had a clear window panel so people could see if the studio was empty or not, and when you looked outside you could see the navy blue carpeted, cream-painted corridor. But instead of the corridor, we saw someone.

Victor. Standing there, looking through the glass like a kid admiring the treats in a sweet shop window. He saw me looking at him and smiled, waving in return.

"I need to talk to you" he half mimed, half spoke through the glass window.

"Can't it wait? Kinda busy!" I cried back, ignoring Kyle and Shannon's curious looks.

Victor simply shook his head. He then held up a wad of papers in his hand and smiled, pointing at them gleefully. It could only mean one thing!

"Actually, let's call it a day. We've done enough work for this week" I said, lifting the headphones from my head and grabbing my bag and my winter coat from behind me.

"Victor Van Dort, ay?" Kyle called out, from behind the glass, eyebrows raised and a cheeky grin on his face.

"No, he has a girlfriend and they are happy. We're doing a project. Those papers are his research, and now we need to discuss it. See you later!" I waved goodbye to Shannon who merely smiled.

"Sorry I interrupted. If it's any consolation, your singing was amazing" Victor chimed when I left the studio, shutting the door behind me. We started walking down the corridor, intent on heading out of the building.

"You heard me sing? When did you arrive?" I asked, slowly pulling my coat on and throwing my bag over my shoulder.

"About two minutes ago. You really like Nightwish then?"

"One of my favourite bands, yeah. Thanks. So, what have you found?"

"Well…I'd call it successful, but…" He began.

"What is it?"

Victor paused, he held up the papers in his hands.

"Let's find a place to discuss this where we won't be disturbed."

Five minutes later, we were sitting on a bench on the verge of the local park next to the University. No one was around in the park and everyone else was inside, keeping warm or studying. Victor sat to my right and I got a strange feeling of déjà vu. I simply chuckled.

"Doesn't this remind you of anything?" I said to him. "Though I am missing the dead dog in the box" I added. He got the joke, and the reference. I was referring to our latest dream.

"Oh yeah. But the view is a lot different. Anyway, let's not get distracted" he said. "I did some more research on you."

"Eh?" I asked.

"Sorry, your 'previous you'. The one from the 19th century." He brandished a pile of papers, all with small black writing on them.

"What's that?" I asked again.

"_This_ is everything to do with Miss Emily Hunter. Born on the 4th of November 1854, Emily Jane Elizabeth Hunter was the one and only child of Lord Christopher and Lady Margaret. Lady Hunter…" I stopped Victor there.

"Let's just call them Chris and Margaret, shall we? Save you always saying Lord and Lady" I suggested.

"OK. Margaret suffered complications after birth and from then on, was unable to have children again. Emily was their only daughter. Emily had a maid called Beatrice from the age of two. Beatrice was her nanny and second mother whenever Margaret and Chris travelled away for events – they were high society – and Emily couldn't go with them. At five, she attended the Hartnell School for girls and graduated when she was eighteen. After she celebrated her nineteenth birthday, Chris and Margaret sought to find their daughter a bachelor for marriage. They were a wealthy family, but according to family interviews after Emily's disappearance, 'Emily wanted to marry for love, not wealth and fortune'. So they searched the land but to no luck. The only decent bachelors were either too young, too old or already spoken for. Which was such a pity because it says that Emily was the most beautiful girl in the village for miles around. Flowing brown curly hair, luscious blue eyes, defined features and a fantastic figure!"

"Yeah, thanks. This isn't getting us anywhere. I need facts, not a beauty statement" I interrupted.

"OK, sorry. No one was able to marry Emily…until one summer's day. Emily returned home, jumping for joy and smiling eagerly, she announced she had found an eligible bachelor by herself and by chance. His name is never mentioned but Emily said he was rich, a new move to the town, very handsome and single. She was eager to marry him but her parents denied marriage until a proper meeting with him. Distraught and offended, Emily fought with Chris and Margaret before rushing to her bedroom.

Two days after – the 14th July – she left the house, returned after half an hour and ran back to her room without hesitation. Only Beatrice saw her return, Chris and Margaret were out, lounging in the garden. She was present for dinner and then retired to her bedroom at half past ten. That was the last time her parents saw her. The morning after, her maid Beatrice came to her room to call her for breakfast but found the bedroom empty of possessions, as well as Margaret's wedding dress missing.

From this information, I'm suspecting Emily eloped with her mystery man."

"And she never said goodbye to her parents? That's so sad" I said, nearly on the verge of tears.

"I know, but here's something else." He reached to the bottom of the pile of papers and pulled out a sepia coloured photograph and he handed it to me. It showed a happy couple, standing together and dressed in their finest attire.

"Who are they?" I turned to Victor.

"That's Lord…sorry, Christopher and Margaret Hunter on their wedding day, the 13th January 1854. They then honeymooned in France until mid-February. Shortly afterwards, Margaret announced she was pregnant. Nine months later, Emily was born. It's a funny question, but…do you recognise Margaret's wedding gown?"

It took me some time to know what he was talking about. I took a closer look at the photograph and looked at the wedding dress in all its finest detail that the photo could display. It was a little grainy but not so much that I could tell…oh my god!

"That's MY wedding dress!" I cried. "I mean…the one I wear in the dream! It's the exact same one! Apart from the hole in the bodice where my ribs are, and the tears on the skirt – that's it! How did you find this?"

"My Godfather is a historian. He owed me a small favour, so I told him I was doing a history project for fun and that I needed as much information on the Hunter family as possible. He pulled a few strings, and this is what he came back with."

"Did he find anything on the Van Dort family?" I put the photo down on my lap.

"No, because I didn't ask him to. I'm still finding this freaky."

"Not as much as me" I added, peaking down at the photo again.

Strange. At a certain angle, Margaret Hunter had similar features to me…me or Emily Hunter? We weren't same people…were we?

"What else did you find" I asked, shaking my head and forgetting the thought.

"Um…actually…I think I have a theory."

"A theory?"

"Yes. I did my own research and I have plenty to back me up with what I'm about to say" Victor smiled, eager to give me the news. He flicked through a few more pieces of paper – so…much…paper! – before pulling out one sheet. It had 'Theory' written across the top in thick black Sharpie pen.

"You're excited about this bit, aren't you?" I said to him.

"Does it show?" he responded, giggling a bit.

"OK, here goes. This comes from an Internet article published six years ago." He cleared his throat, held up the paper and began.

"'19th of March, 2009. Helena said she had the same dream again last night, but this time she heard a commotion outside of her home. Upon inspection, she saw lots of villagers running around in a frenzy, shouting. Sadly, she woke up before she heard what was said.

21st March 2009. Another dream last night, Helena said the villagers were shouting 'Fire! Fire everywhere!' She didn't see anything else, because baby Daisy woke her up for a four AM feeding.

23rd March 2009. Helena has had enough. Sleepless nights from the dreams aren't helping her with Daisy. But she says the last dream she had showed her with three children, all very young, no older than 10 years old. The freaky thing is, Helena's kids are aged 9 and a half, 6 years and 8 months. Almost identical in age and looks to the children in her dreams. Freaky stuff or what?' This woman, her name is Michelle. Her younger sister Helena had these sort of dreams with a recurring story. Basically, to help Helena, Michelle did some research and using the info Helena gave her, she built a storyline around the dreams. To put a long story short, Michelle believes that Helena was a mother of three children in the 17th century."

"Why the 17th century? Specifically, I mean?" I asked.

"Because the houses were dirty, smelly and rotten, no sign of anything electrical, gas or of modern technology. Also – and obviously the most important fact – was that the 'fire' the villagers yelled about…was the Great Fire of London spreading…in 1666. The 17th century."

"So…what does this mean for us and our dreams?" I began, trying to keep back my anxiety and worry over what Victor would say next.

"I think…and, please don't call me stupid but…I think you and I were Victor Van Dort and Emily Hunter…in a previous life."

"In a previous life? Like Buddhism?" I thought out loud. "Like we were re-created when the original person died?"

"I think so" Victor nodded. Oh God…this was too much.

"No, it's not possible. I mean…what happened to me…to Emily Hunter, I mean. What happened to her? She disappears one morning with her mother's wedding dress and was never seen again. How does that explain me being dead in my…"I paused. Oh good God, it all made sense now!

Emily Hunter died in her mother's wedding dress. She died on her wedding night, and was living the afterlife in the bridal gown and all of its accessories. It was all coming together. But how was Victor involved in all this? Did he know Emily when she was alive? Or dead?

"Emily? Emily, you OK?" Victor tried talking to me. I had spaced out for a minute, dwelving in to all of the possible questions to this theory that I had forgotten about Victor.

"Yeah, sorry. I guess I'm getting attached to her. To Emily. For some time, I keep believing she is me. Or I'm her. Whatever!" I shrug it off.

"Maybe you and her were. You were one another…in a previous life…or something like that."

"You think the same with you and Victoria? That you were a couple in the 19th century?"

"I guess so. It makes logical sense. We got married, we died and then modern day Victoria and I were born."

"Yeah" I sighed. This was all feeling very sombre and grim. I needed cheering up, and evidently Victor did too.

"You wanna get a drink?" I suggested. "Something strong? But hot, it is freezing out here."

"After all this research, I feel like an Irish coffee. A double!"

"Come on, I'll buy you your Irish coffee." I smiled weakly, slowly rising from the bench and folding the Hunter's photograph in to two and then placing it in my jacket pocket. Victor joined me, leading the way towards the nearest coffee shop. He was silent the entire way there – as if something was on his mind.

That night:

OK, here we go! Let's see if this bad boy can give us more information, maybe even solve this once and for all and be the final dream? Pfft, yeah right!

OK, I'm in the woods…again! I'm following some obscure footprints left in the snow. Whose tracks are those? So I follow them, weaving through snow-covered trees and find a village just over a bridge. The same bridge I met Victor on! When he passed out and we then ended up in the Land of the Dead. To my right is a church, to my left is a small river that runs under the bridge and the town lies dead ahead. The tracks have finished because there's no snow on the bricks of the bridge or anywhere else. So that's means they went over the bridge and in to town.

There! I see him! Disappearing around a corner! It's Victor! He's running away from me, disappearing behind a tall building that I don't recognise. It's big, I'll say that! And belongs to someone rich, judging by the curtains in the windows and the stone statues outside the front doors. I follow Victor around and see him disappear…up! Up on to a balcony and through some glass doors. He must've climbed up the ivy. There's a ton of it wrapped around a stone column, supporting the balcony. My only option was to climb it too, but in this dress and these heels?! Seems I have no other choice.

So I start climbing, and it all seems a lot easier than I thought. Before long, I'm approaching the top and reaching my good arm (the one that isn't bony and skeletal) to grab on to the balcony edge and haul myself over.

When I do, I'm shocked! There's Victor inside, facing me with horror written all over his face. He's facing another woman, her back is to me. In reaction to Victor's horrified face, she turns around but Victor stops her before I see her face, placing his hands on her face and talking to her. I can't hear what he's saying, but without further wait, I push open the doors – just as a gust of wind blows by and whips my veil around my face. The curtains blow, the cool wind gushes in to the room, making the fireplace flicker as fiery hot meets deathly cold.

Adjusting my veil and flinging it aside with my tangled hair, I met Victor's gaze and the woman he was with. Oh my god!

It was Victoria! All dressed in Victorian attire, a brown and dark red striped dress and her hair tightly pulled in to a bun – just like in the newspaper photograph!

"Darling, who's this?" I said. WHAT? Darling?! Do I mean Victor?! I must do, suddenly, he's at my side with our arms intertwined…like a couple! Uh oh!

"Who is she?" Victoria asked. Her voice was no different to the 21st century girl we knew. Exactly the same! And the real bombshell dropped. In response, to Victoria's question, I simply thrust my left arm forward, splayed my fingers and proudly said:

"I'm…his wife!" There was dead silence. Victoria glared at the golden ring glistening on my finger, then to Victor.

"Victor?!" she cried.

"Victoria, wait! You don't understand" Victor said, his eyes darting back and forth to us both. "She's dead, look!" He proved his point by grabbing my skeletal hand and waving it around for Victoria to gaze upon, as proof. I was horrified. Or rather, Emily Hunter was horrified! And she didn't hide it. I snatched my hand away from Victor's firm grasp with such a force that I propelled me back to the doors of the balcony. The wind around me stirred up, I could hear thunder behind me and a dozen or so crows flying behind my back. Their wings were like bullets flying all around as the soared around me…Emily…whatever.

"Hopscotch!" I cried.

Whaaat?! What does 'Hopscotch' mean? I didn't have time to think. Before I know it, I'm returning Victor's betrayal by grabbing his wrist, forcing him towards me and in to my dead arms as the crows flew around us, encapsulating us like a thick blanket.

Victor didn't have time to react. He merely stretched out his only free arm to Victoria and screamed with all his might, in a hope that it would save him:

"VICTORIA!"

And then I woke.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

"OK, THAT was weird!" Victor texted me.

"More info though! When can we meet? Library as usual?" I texted back.

"How about your place?" he suggested.

"Can't. Charlotte has her boyfriend round today, and I'm not allowed at the flat. Ugh! How about yours?" I suggested. Five minutes passed. Then he responded.

"OK. No lectures, housemates are out. Come on over!"

"What time and where?" I added.

"9am? Flat 24, second floor of the Tennant Tower, on Smith Avenue. It's a 10 minute walk from the library." Victor texted me back instantly.

"Thanks!" I simply replied. It was 8 am. I hadn't been able to sleep since I woke from the dream at 6am. Fuelled by coffee and a home-made blueberry muffin – courtesy of Charlotte – I knuckled down and decided to take matters in to my own hands. If Victor wasn't willing to do his OWN research on his 'previous self', then I would. He did mine, so now I was doing his.

The dream had given me SO MUCH information without me realising it! It seemed that Victor and I had become married, but Victor was denying it completely. And we were in the Land of the Living, for sure. The village that – forty years ago – was taken down and covered by a supermarket, was the village where Victoria lived. And the graveyard nearby still stood. If my instinct was correct, that's where I – Emily Hunter – was buried in 1873. Two years later, the Van Dort's and Everglot's announce the engagement of Victor and Victoria but somehow, Victor ended up marrying me. It was either accidental or spontaneous, judging by Victoria's reaction when she saw me…Emily Hunter, I mean.

So, I went further in to the history of Victor Van Dort and Victoria Everglot.

Nothing major at first, just the birth dates, addresses and educational history. They both left school at 18, and when 19 years old were subjected to their parents orders that they be married as soon as possible. Typical!

Victor was two months older than Victoria – matter of fact; they were born in the same hospital and lived in the same village, only opposite each other. Evidently, all the families had to was look out the window and say "yep, they can marry!"

BUT! I discovered a little home truth. The Everglots – Victoria's 'rich' family – weren't as rich as they had made out to be. In fact, it seemed the only reason they married Victoria to Victor, was to secure their financial status. They married for the money. The Van Dort's were loaded with riches, due to a successful fishing company that was started in 1821. Victor's grandfather started it out, his son William inherited it when his father died in 1856 and then Victor was the next in line to receive the business – which didn't happen until five years after he and Victoria were married, when William Van Dort died of tuberculosis in the summer of 1890. Fascinating stuff, but morbid!

So Victor Van Dort carried on the fishing company, made his riches with wife Victoria and their children. No mention of Emily Hunter though.

Then – BINGO! I came across a single newspaper article, dated in 1875. To be precise: 2nd December 1875. 3 days after the engagement announcement! I scanned my eyes over the paragraphs, taking in all of this new information. Wow! This was brilliant! And it was starting to make sense. Without hesitation, I printed it off, stuffed it in my bag, threw it over my shoulder and grabbed my jacket, heading out of the door, a bemused half-awake, half-asleep Charlotte watching me go from the kitchen.

"That muffin was for me!" she yelled, just as I shut the front door behind me, a cheeky little grin on my face – both for the research and the muffin!

20 minutes later:

8:40 AM. Flat 24 of the Tennant Tower. A.k.a. Victors flat. I'm standing right outside his front door, admiring it. Sounds weird, I know, but either Victor is a sci-fi fan or his flatmates are…because their front door is dark blue and painted to look like the doors on the TARDIS – Doctor Who's time travelling police box. Which I happen to love! He answers immediately, adjusting his hair to make it look neater.

"Bed head?" I said.

"Hmm" he simply smiled.

"Hope you're not too tired from that dream?" I asked, walking inside as he shut the door behind me.

"50/50. I did get back to sleep afterwards, but not for too long. Only got up 10 minutes ago. You're early!"

"Sorry, I'm the opposite. I'm restless. Listen…um…"

"What is it?" Victor asked, curious.

"I've done my own research…well, yours. I did some research on Victor Van Dort this morning. I couldn't get back to sleep; I've been awake since 6am. And I know you'll find this freaky, but how are we going to find out more about your dreams without work, ay?"

Victor just looked at me, standing still in his creased Avengers T-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms. Pyjamas or lazy wear, couldn't tell!

"That's kind of you. Thank you. I'm adjusting to this, but I still find this very weird. This isn't normal."

"None of this is" I shrugged. He sighed, shoving his hands in to his tracksuit pockets, and smiling weakly at me.

"Cup of tea?" he offered.

"Please. Milk, no sugar" I smiled in return.

"Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I'll be with you in 2 minutes" he made his excuses and walked in to the kitchen.

"OK!" I called back. His flat was surprisingly neat. No sign of any dirty mugs, plates or cutlery. The carpet was hoovered, the curtains and windows were clean, all the books on the shelves were arranged – alphabetically too! – and the DVD's were stacked neatly by the TV.

"This place is great!" I called to him, hearing the sound of the kettle clicking off.

"Cheers! My flat mates are out at the moment. Buying coffees to cure last night's hangover, before their lectures. Sheesh!" he chuckled.

"Is that why this place is so clean? Because of a drunken mishap from last night?" I called back, casually sitting down on the sofa and pulling out the research papers.

"What?! Oh no, one of the guys has a cleaning habit. It's kind of an OCD for him. As soon as he finishes his dinner, he HAS to clean the plate, dry it and put it back in the cupboard. Cutlery and drinking glass too! We don't complain. In return, we cook the dinner and take care of the recycling boxes. I do the cooking, Jeff does the recycling and Chris does the cleaning."

"Seems fair, that's good of you. I can't even get Charlotte to cut up the pizza boxes for recycling! Oh, and which one of them is the Doctor Who fan?"

"What?"

"The TARDIS front door? Come on, only a true Who-vian would be willing to do that on their front door."

"Actually, that's me."

"You're a Doctor Who fan?" I called back, excited.

Victor then appeared holding two mugs of tea, placing them on the coffee table in front of us and sitting down next to me. Ironically, they were Doctor Who mugs. One was deep blue, painted like the TARDIS and mine was a photo of the poster, celebrating the 50th Anniversary.

"Yep" he smiled proudly.

"Didn't know that" I smiled, picking up my mug.

"There's a lot of things you don't about me" he smiled – cheeky or flirting? Couldn't tell!

He clasped his hands together, sighed and said:

"OK, what've you got for me?"

I read out the basic information – birth dates, school, etc. The brief history between the Van Dort's and Everglot's, the fishing company and the engagement. Which brought me to the most recent – and most intriguing – find.

"OK, before we go further, one quick question. The first set of dreams…" I began.

"Yeah" he nodded.

"Tell me about them. What was the very first dream you had, to this series?"

"Ugh…um…I was in a forest. I was walking, nowhere in particular, just walking. Wondering around like I was in a dream…pardon the pun…uh…there was snow everywhere. I was surrounded by trees, but there was one that was different. The forest ones were tall, skinny, and there were hundreds of them. But there was just one which was the complete opposite. Short, fat, and a different type of tree. It looked like an oak. A really old oak tree, with twisted and crooked branches. Then there was a golden ring in my hand, with a little white flower. Next thing I know, I placed the ring on a twig – why, I have no idea – and then I woke up."

"The ring? Any chance that could be the same ring I showed off last night to Victoria…in the dream, I mean?" His eyes widened.

"Oh my god" he said."

"But wait for it" I added. "There's more." I pulled out the next sheet of paper from the pile, revealing a poster from 1875.

"This is dated the 2nd of December 1875. That was the day of the Van Dort's wedding rehearsal. The day after, December 3rd, Victor and Victoria were married."

"That was quick!" Victor commented.

"The Van Dorts and Everglots didn't want to delay. Money was tight, bills had to be paid, and demands had to be met. So on, so forth. But anyway, this poster was spread around town on the 2nd December 1875. Take a look at it." I passed Victor the poster. A simple poster with simple, but chilling facts. It had Victor's face painted on it, with the words: 'Have You Seen Me?' written in thick black writing. Underneath, it had a brief description of what Victor Van Dort looked like.

"I disappeared?" Victor asked.

"You went missing. You ran away from the wedding rehearsal. I found the report made by Victor Van Dort's parents, William and Madeline. They were out looking for him the night he vanished. It says 'he ran away from the rehearsal at 8:15pm and we have not seen him since. He did not go home, to the fishmongers, or the village church.' Wait for it though." I paused. This was an interesting fact.

"It says 'at 4am on the 3rd December, the bell ringer cried to the village that Victor had eloped…with a corpse!'"

"Eloped with…oh my! I eloped with you?" he suggested.

"Oh, don't make it sound like an insult!" I replied, sarcastically.

"Sorry, it wasn't" he mumbled. I sipped my tea quietly, reading over the facts and piecing them together.

"I have my own theory now. Well, more like a story" I said, placing my mug down on the coaster.

"Go for it" Victor sighed.

"You were engaged to Victoria, you went to the rehearsals. But something went wrong then, and you ran off…to the woods. There upon which, you placed the wedding ring on the 'twig' as you said in the first dream. I believe, you brought me to life."

"What?" Victor asked.

"I believe, because I died in my wedding dress, in the woods not far from the village where I lived. Then 3 years later, you ran to the woods, escaping whatever happened at the rehearsal and you stumbled upon my body. Somehow, the ring brought me back to life and then I chased you through the woods, over the bridge before we woke up in the Land of the Dead. And we were married. The ring was on my finger, and I was more than happy to show it off to everyone. We got married, but you freaked out and tried to get back to Victoria – which explains last night's dream. You got back to her, but because I assumed we were a couple, I became mad and dragged you away. I think this is what happened between the living corpse of Emily Hunter and Victor Van Dort."

Victor was silent.

"I married you?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with me.

"I think so" I nodded, taking another sip of tea. As if in perfect harmony, my body decided to interrupt the solemn mood, when I realised that those morning coffees were now repeating on me.

"Where's your bathroom?" I asked, almost urgently.

"Um, just there" Victor answered, briefly waving his hand behind his shoulder. Getting up, I discovered that there were 3 different doors. Oh crap. Victor seemed too distant and preoccupied with all the information, I had to take a wild guess which one was the bathroom door. Left one: nope, roommate's bedroom. Central one: Victor's bedroom. Right one: Bathroom! Success!

Wait! Hang on! I suddenly lost the need to go to the bathroom when I saw Victor's bedroom. It was partially open, allowing me to see the foot of his bed and the edge of his study desk. Suddenly, I found myself curious to see what the pieces of paper were, lying on his desk. Drawings and artwork, scattered everywhere. I could see from simple glances that Victor liked to draw butterflies, animals and living creatures.

Oh! There was one that really caught my eye! It really amazed me, I had to take a closer look. I was sure Victor wouldn't mind me admiring his work, I'd shower him with compliments and praise afterwards…uh, OK. That wasn't expected.

At first, I thought the pencil portrait was of Victoria, but with her hair down. From the distance, the girl in the portrait was stunning; the way Victor had captured the defined features – like the cheekbones and the individual strands of hair that cascaded around her shoulders and face. But upon a closer look, I found that the girl in the portrait was actually…

Me.

It was definitely me, it had 'Emily portrait 4' scribbled at the bottom corner in pencil. Wait, 4? Were there more? And why me?

"Em? You found the bathroom, alright?" Victor called from the living room.

"Uh…yeah" I called back, lying. Still holding on to the pencil portrait, I quickly ran to the toilet, did my business and flushed, making Victor believe that I had been there all along. Returning to the living room, he was still sitting on the sofa, flicking through the research I had printed, and reading it thoroughly. I took this opportunity to confront him. I simply tossed the paper down on the table, so that it landed right in front of his eyes, so he couldn't avoid it. He saw it, and instantly froze.

"What's this?" I asked, a little shaken and nervous. I wasn't sure how he would react. I hoped it would be a simple answer like 'I wanted to experiment with faces for my work' or 'I wanted a change from drawing Victoria's face'. Thinking of it though, I didn't see any paintings or drawings of Victoria…but maybe he had some stashed away in a portfolio?

"You've been in my room?" he asked, calmly. Ah, OK. That stopped me. He knew I'd been snooping! Damn!

"Sorry, I saw the drawings and I had to take a look. I was very curious. Too curious, in fact! Now I want to know why you've got a drawing of me in your room." I stood standing, retaining any power I held, watching him as he remained on the sofa.

"I'm an artist. I need to practice my skills by drawing some things, don't I? I chose you as one of my models" he answered.

"I never agreed to be your model."

"Alright, true. I should've asked you before I did anything" he began, but I interjected.

"Why didn't you? Why didn't you ask me? I wouldn't've been embarrassed or anything" I shrugged.

"OK, I should've asked, but…"

"But?" Victor sighed. "God, then I would've been embarrassed. Imagine me approaching you, after all that we've been doing recently. It'd be weird, wouldn't it? 'Hey Emily, in the past life, you and I got married even though you were dead and this all happened in the 19th century. Would you mind posing for my artwork?' Would you agree it would be weird?"

He did have a point.

"OK, fine. I'll let that pass. But still! Why not draw Victoria?" I asked, taking a seat next to him.

"She has a very complicated face. If I get one little thing wrong, it looks horrendous. She agrees. I got her right eye a little too big last time…long story short, that picture is now nothing more than damp ashes. She ripped it up and burnt it in the sink, before washing it away. But your face, it was so much more…complex. And easier to draw. And…you have a beautiful face."

OK, I was taken back by that remark, and I must confess, a little flattered! Relax Emily, he has a girlfriend, he wouldn't make an advance on you…or would he? With this on my mind, I turned back to him, to see him watching me with those deep eyes, dark hair falling over his brow and brushing his eyelashes. He was hunched over, fingers entwined together and arms leaning on his thighs.

"Thank you" I smiled, a little flirtatiously. THAT was not planned! I dropped the smile before it got too far…but it seemed that had already happened. I briefly glanced away to compose myself and get back to talking about our dreams, but Victor interrupted. As I turned back, he was suddenly closer to me, his fingers no longer entwined, his body half turned towards me, and his eyes focused on my face. I didn't know how to react.

"Victor?" I merely whispered…as he leaned forward and closed his eyes…lips pursed.

I can't say I wasn't tempted. My heart was racing, both with excitement and worry. Up close, he was so attractive and I was curious to find out what it would be like to kiss him. He was a popular guy…but he was also taken…and I respected Victoria. She was a friend, I couldn't do this to her, so…I pulled away.

"Woah…What are you doing?" I asked, watching him open his eyes to look back at my shocked face.

"What do you think?" he answered, barely whispering, closing his eyes again and leaning closer.

"I think you're overstepping the mark, Victor. You have a girlfriend" I said, placing a hand on his chest in a weak attempt to push him away, and reminding him of the relationship we shared – friends, nothing more.

He slowly retreated, realising the mistake he was making. His eyes dropped and he turned away from me, retreating to the same position as before, fingers linked and hunched over. There was silence between us for a good few minutes. It was so quiet, I could hear the clock tick and the muttering of conversations from people outside on the streets.

"I'm sorry" he finally muttered. The silence returned, but I knew I had to beak it, one way or another.

"Forget it. Forget it even happened. Let's make sure Victoria never hears about this." My eyes caught sight of the portrait of me. "It's very good, I'll say that. You definitely captured me in a good light."

"I'd like to keep it, if you don't mind. It's one of my best pencil portraits" he remarked.

"OK, fine." I saw this opportunity to gather my stuff and go.

"Anyway, best go. Stuff needs doing" I said, making a crap excuse and casually grabbing my bag by my feet. I used all the energy I could muster to make my way to the door, without turning around to see Victor's face. I couldn't face that, not right now. His attempted kiss had caught me off guard.

My head was thinking "good girl, you did the right thing" but my heart was saying "why not? How bad could it have been?"

Trouble is, I couldn't decide which one to agree with!


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Later that day:

I had returned back to the flat immediately after leaving Victor's flat, and there I stayed for the rest of the day, trying to process what had just happened. Charlotte was still out with her boyfriend and I knew she wouldn't return until 11pm – at the earliest.

I had been lazy and ordered a Chinese take-away, drunk a glass of wine and binge-watched Netflix on the laptop. It was 9:45pm now and I was beginning to feel the effects of the wine and began drifting off. Early night, I thought. So to bed I went. Tucked in, clock softly tick-tocking, fluffy winter pyjamas on…

And then the next dream began.

I was sitting at a piano, casually playing with my left skeletal hand – though in real life, I couldn't play piano. I was simply a singer, so it was wondrous to see and hear me play. I didn't recognise the song but it was beautiful. A little heart-breaking, but beautiful. I was all alone in the pub. It was completely deserted, no sign of any kitchen staff or anyone else around. Just me.

"_If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain."_

So I continued to play. Just sitting here on my lonesome…until. The piano playing was enough to fill the room with music, yet it still left me able to hear a door opening. One right above my head, it led out on to the streets and connected with a beautiful black winding staircase that stopped about two metres away from me.

And guess who was walking down it, with a bouquet of dead flowers in his hand, eyes set on me with such intention.

Victor.

Still dressed in his Victorian suit, ripped in odd places, he carefully approached the piano bench and appeared at my right. He was in my eye line, enough for me to register his presence but enough so I could look away easily without effort.

"I think you dropped this" he said, producing the flowers and placing them on top of the piano. I ignored him and carried on playing. I was too caught up in listening to the music to pay him any attention.

"I'm sorry" he sighed. "I'm sorry I lied to you about wanting to see my parents. It's just this whole day hasn't got quite…well…" he sat down next to me with a sigh, but kept his back towards me.

"…according to plan" he shrugged.

"_And I feel my heart is aching. Though it doesn't beat, it's breaking."_

He was silent next to me, doing nothing but sitting there… then he joined in playing. He played the piano?! I had to say I was quite amazed, but pissed off too. So I simply threw him an angered look…and he got the idea of it. He caught sight of those angry eyes and immediately looked away, slowly pulling his hand away from the piano, like I was going to bite it! He let me play on, cautiously watching from his seat and then plucked up the courage to try playing with me again. This time, with both hands. He carried on with my tune, developing his own, a more cheery addition to this sad, melancholic tune that really grabbed my attention. So I played with him. This was all very mysterious and rather surreal. Mind you, this whole dream thing was surreal, so there was nothing new!

But the optimistic notes silently drifted away as I returned the melody back to its original, haunting piece, sliding my hands off the piano keys and on to my lap. But Victor wasn't having any of it! Instead of getting up and walking away, he remained seated next to me. He grabbed his opportunity and resumed playing – but my god, the difference in the melody was astonishing! I made no attempt to show my surprise, as he danced his fingers along the keyboard. Gone was the sad, lonely song that seemed to echo in my mind, and in came this…this…sunny, upbeat, extravaganza!

By now, I was leaning on the keyboard, my skeleton thin arms not pressing on the keys and my head resting in my right hand. My back was properly turned to Victor now, keeping him out of my eye line so I couldn't see that cheeky face, trying to pry me into playing with him. I could tell, by the way he briefly paused the song, and felt the seat shift beneath me, as if he was leaning ever so slightly towards me. He continued to play when he saw he wasn't getting a reaction out of me. Though all I could do was listen to him and remain still where I sat. And so he carried on playing – would he ever stop? What was he trying to achieve?

Oh…he was apologising! He wanted forgiveness! Because of what happened between me, him and Victoria. Oh, it all made sense now! In the dream world, he was seeking my forgiveness for what he had done in real life – it was a reflection and parallel to our own world. Well, what was I to do. Part of me wanted to turn around and say "I forgive you, though I never hated you in the first place, in fact I like you and I wish you would actually kiss me" but another part was saying "you shouldn't have done that! What about Victoria?"

Ugh! Mind voices, they suck! So, bearing this in mind, I listened to him play. He just kept on going! On and on and on! But then he took a hint from my lack of reaction, that he wasn't being forgiven so easily…but I couldn't shut him away forever. I didn't want to, and I didn't have it in me to turn away after we'd been through so much together. All these dreams, all these revelations, all the litres of tea and tonnes of biscuits we had consumed – I couldn't throw it all away because of one little attempted kiss.

So I forgave him. And in this world, there was only one way to do it, right here and now. As Victor built up to a peak in the song, I placed my hands on the keyboard and thundered along with him, creating our own fantastic melody that echoed across the pub. So beautiful! I never knew a piano could be so enchanting. I finally turned to face him, his eyes meeting mine.

He smiled at me. I smiled back, forgiving him completely.

And then I woke up!

"Dah!" I yelled as I rose from bed. "What?" I asked myself. Why the hell did I say that? What time was it? 4.25am. I had three hours until I had to be up and then my one and only lecture of the day was at 10am. That meant I had the rest of the day to carry on researching, and find Victor. He and I had synchronised dreams, but a gut instinct told me he wasn't texting me tonight. I was right, he didn't. My phone was on and charging by my computer all through the night and no text ever came through.

Even when I re-woke at 7.30am, he hadn't sent me a message.

At 10am, my lecture began. At 11am, it finished and I walked out of the halls. Bag over my shoulder, my hair flowing as I walked and the ice cold wind hitting me in the face, I walked with purpose. Towards Victors flat.

**Authors note:** Sorry this has taken so long! Had my summer holidays, working hard, and deciding how to end this story. No spoilers though! This is a short chapter but the next one will be longer and have more activity. In the meantime, please carry on reading and please review. It always makes me smile when I get a review on this story. Makes me smile :D


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

11:30am – Victors flat.

I would've arrived sooner, but I stopped off via the coffee shop for a quick cappuccino. I needed a caffeine fix for what I was about to do. I was now standing outside Victor's door, still admiring the TARDIS painting that had been embellished on the front, smiling a little. The other thing keeping me on this side of the door were the voices in heard on the inside. Loud, shouting, angry voices! It didn't sound good. But I could tell it was Victor and Victoria. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I heard it in drips and drabs.

"What's going…you two?"

"Why you…even true?"

"Something's…you and Emily, I know…everyone's talking about it in rehearsals."

"You're not…me Victoria!"

Oh boy, this didn't sound good at all. I was having second thoughts about knocking on the door, thinking I should walk away and leave whilst I still could, and return later to talk to Victor. I should've made the latter choice, but I didn't.

Bad idea! Because no sooner than 10 seconds later did I hear – "Whatever!" And then Victoria opened the front door. She stood there, mouth ajar, hair dishevelled in several places and her face as red as a tomato – probably from all the shouting. She stared at me with such hate, such anger. If looks could kill, I'd be stone cold for more than a hundred years. Ironic, don't you think?

And not far behind her stood Victor, still in his pyjamas, running his hands through his hair.

"Well, talk of the devil" Victoria cried, turning back to Victor who glanced over and stared back at me.

"Emily?! What are you doing here?" he said, slightly in shock.

"Uh…" I stuttered. Not sure what to say right now. But remaining silent didn't help me out either.

"Uh, what Emily? What are you doing here?" Victoria questioned me, making me feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"I came to talk to Victor…about our…project" I said. WHAT? Does she even know about our dreams? I think not. Oh damn, this was going to be painful. I walked inside, showing Victoria that I wasn't intimidated by her or her raging anger. I walked passed Victor, dropping my bag on to the floor and watching Victoria shut the door. The three of us stood in a line, Victoria and I either side of Victor, him in the centre.

"What's with all the shouting?" I asked.

"None of your business" Victoria snapped back.

"It is actually" I snapped back at her. "I heard my name being mentioned. What's going on between you two?"

"I could ask you the same question" Victoria answered.

"Huh?"

"What are you two doing behind my back? And don't deny it and call me stupid. My friend saw you at the library, together. You don't study the same subject…" Victor then chose to interject, cutting Victoria off.

"She thinks I'm cheating with you behind her back" he looked at me. "There! I said it!" he added, aiming that at Victoria.

"We are not! Yes, we don't study the same subject but there's no crime in going to the same library, Victoria. Why would you think we were cheating on you?" I asked.

"My friend saw you two hugging outside the library, saying you'd call one another. Explain that!"

"You're being paranoid" Victor cried.

"We were doing some research" I added. Victor looked at me then with such an ice cold scared look. He was afraid. But what of?

"What? We were. We still are" I protested.

"Research for what?" Victoria asked.

"A project" I answered, before Victor could step in and interrupt with excuses.

"A project?" Victoria practically mocked us.

"Yes, a project" Victor replied. Victoria was silent, her body still. Her eyes darted back and forth between me and Victor, possibly trying to find any Victoria was silent, her body still. Her eyes darted back and forth between me and Victor, possibly trying to find any way uncomplicated this situation, like she was trying to understand it more.

"Seriously? That's it? A stupid little project?" she asked.

"I'd hardly call it stupid or little" Victor added. "It's rather important to us."

"Oh god" I sighed under my breath. Because saying THAT didn't make us sound more guilty!

"Important?" Victoria practically spat out, like our words were poison to her and she was getting rid of the venom.

"Yes…important" Victor reassured.

"Important in what way?" she asked. There was silence. So silent, we could hear the sound of a dog paws click-click-click-click on the concrete pavement outside Victor's window.

"It's hard to describe" I managed to say, without whispering.

"Well, I've got all day to hear this." Victoria said, perching herself on the sofa. Plopping her handbag next to her lap, she looked at us directly, her eyes full of hunger.

"Well…I'm waiting" she spat.

So we told her. Every little detail. It took us an hour to explain everything – it would've been less but Victoria kept interrupting us, driving Victor to go red in the face with impatience and anger.

"Victoria, let me finish" he would say, when we announced that we had been married in a previous life, and when he told her that he too was engaged to Victoria.

"It's all rubbish! This is just a crap excuse to break up with me!" she would screech. To which Victor replied:

"Oh Victoria, I can think of better excuses and all of them are true." THAT left me stunned. Almost as much as Victoria. She did the perfect impression of a goldfish – mouth ajar, eyes wide like she didn't have eyelids to blink – all we needed was some scales and a bowl of water.

"And that's it, basically" I finished, when Victor explained what happened in the latest dream.

"So…you and I were engaged?" she looked at Victor.

"Yes" he nodded.

"And you were also married to her?" she added.

"The dead me, yes" I chimed. OK, out of context, that sounded freakin' weird!

She sat there, leaning back on the sofa, eyes avoiding us and hand resting on her forehead.

"This is barbaric! It's preposterous!" she yelled.

"It's true" I shrugged. More silence. Victoria closed her mouth, starting breathing heavily and ferociously through her nose, fingers drumming loudly on the sofa arm. She then looked up at me.

"Emily…I'd like some time alone with Victor…now!" she growled. Damn! The girl can bite without baring teeth, I'll give her that! For a pretty, flawless dancer, she had a scary attitude.

"OK" I said, holding my hands up. I chose to stand in the kitchen. At least I'd get a cup of tea out of waiting, I'm sure Victor wouldn't mind me taking a tea bag and dash of milk. So I closed the door behind me and awaited a further cue to re-enter the room. It gave me a chance to look at Facebook and answer an email or two.

Twenty minutes later:

Still arguing in there! My tea was now cold and I had 'accidentally' helped myself to the chocolate digestives on the kitchen surface. Mental note: when this is over, buy chocolate digestives for Victor.

I knew they were talking about me. Victoria kept mentioning my name, and the odd nasty comment that I chose to ignore. Who was she to say that my chin was too pointy or that my hair needed a cut…OK, the hair bit was true. But decent hairdressers cost a fortune in this part of town, and I was a student!

And she wasn't Miss Perfect either. She had her flaws. The temper, the over-done make-up and the dry skin on the backs of her hands were obvious flaws to everyone but her.

Then she said:

"Why don't you just go out with her and have done with me?"

"Tempting, Victoria. Right now, it's oh so tempting!"

At that point, I heard silence…and then a CRACK!

"That hurt" Victor said, pain in his voice.

"Considering what you've put me through, you had it coming!" she spat.

"What I've put YOU through?! Give me THREE bad things that I've put on you these past four months!" Victor instructed her.

"One: You've made me believe you were having an affair. Two: you deny it completely even though it's true…" she began.

"IT'S NOT!" Victor yelled.

"And three…" she stopped there.

"Exactly! And number two wasn't even a problem. That was just a pathetic excuse…god, that stings" he cursed.

Oh my god! I figured it out! She had slapped him! That was enough for me, if she was inflicting pain upon him, I wouldn't stand it. I chose that moment to re-enter the room. Victoria saw me enter from the kitchen and rolled her eyes.

"I didn't say you could come back in, Emily" she snarled.

"Tough!" I bit back. I saw Victor's reaction; he was so relieved to see me. He actually looked scared.

"Excuse me?"

"I said…tough!" She then directed her look to Victor, hand covering his left cheek, a patch of red tinted flesh appearing around his chin – where he had slapped him.

"I'm not sorry" she said to Victor, folding her arms.

"Get out" he said, so calmly yet to full of hatred.

"What?" she asked. I chose then to swallow any fear or cowardice in my body and approached her slowly.

"Get out." I came face to face with her, like a tiger facing its enemy, fighting for the prey. She stared me down for a good minute or so, never taking her eyes off me before she finally gave in.

"Fine! You want to continue your sad little project, then go ahead. You're both complete idiots. Researching dreams and past lives…I've heard better stories in children's books!" she yelled, as she walked to the door.

"Oh…" I started yelling back at her. I chose two certain words to say to her then and there. The second one was off, the first rhymed with 'truck'. I wish I had a camera to capture the look on her face.

"How dare you!" Victoria screeched.

"You heard her Victoria" Victor added. "And don't come back. Don't talk to me, approach me in the street or contact me in any way. And don't blame ANY of this on me! This is all your doing! We…are over!"

"Fine! Carry on with your little project like the pathetic kids you are!"

Right! I'd had enough of this!

"It's not pathetic, Victoria. It's our lives. And unlike _yours_, there's something interesting going on with them. So if Victor and I want to continue this, then we shall, whether you like it or not. Now do as Victor says, stay away from him, me and our flats and focus on your prissy dancing career. Because all you ever do is prance about like you own everything and blame others for your own stupid faults. So do us all a favour and grow up!"

Then I slammed the door in her face. Victory! I didn't care to see or hear her reaction, I only cared about Victors face. Was there blood where she hit him, maybe a scratch from her nails?

"You OK?" I asked, shaking a little from the adrenaline.

"Yeah" he sighed, sitting down on the sofa slowly. "You were very brave, standing up to her. And standing up for our project…if you could call it that."

"Well, it means a lot to me." I shrugged, then smiled jokingly. "So pardon my enthusiasm."

He smiled in return, and nodded slightly.

"I like your enthusiasm."

30 minutes later:

12:30pm

"Only if you drink before midday, and that clock says it isn't" Victor answered, pointing to the clock on the wall as we sat on the sofa.

A little update: he was 'celebrating' his freedom from Victoria and had decided to open a bottle of scotch whiskey, and I had asked him: "It's a little early, isn't it?" He disagreed.

"So what now?" I asked.

"What d'ya mean?" he responded, taking a large swig of the liquor. I stuck with water – alcohol at lunch makes me sleepy. By then, he had changed in to some proper clothes – tattered jeans, Doctor Who T-shirt and thick Family Guy socks – nice! Now we sat side by side on the sofa, debating what was to happen next.

"No doubt, Victoria will twist the truth and say that she…walked in on us kissing, or something…oh god, she's going to put this on Facebook! And she'll tell her friends and parents that she is upset and that I was insisting we split up. Which I was…for a long time. She just chose to ignore it."

"So she's a weight off your shoulders?" I asked, sipping my water.

"A huge weight! Like…three tonnes!"

"Specific" I chuckled. "But in all seriousness, if she does twist the truth and her friends start to…I don't know…gang up on you, what do you do then?"

"They won't" Victor shook his head. "They're not strong enough."

"OK…does Victoria have any brothers or sisters that could penalise you? Threaten you?"

"She's an only child, thank goodness. Are you?" he asked me.

"Me? Unless you call the dog my 'little sister', I'm an only child. You?"

"Likewise."

"It's cool, isn't it?" I laughed. "No rivalries, no shared bedrooms, total privacy."

"Until the dog interrupts you" he chuckled. The alcohol was now sinking in to his system.

"Feel better?" I asked, nodding at his empty glass. He gazed down at it, sighed and puffed his cheeks.

"I'm getting the sudden urge for a curry" he replied. I couldn't help but laugh. Though he was right, I could murder a chicken korma and some poppadum's.

"Order in? I think we deserve it" I smiled.

"Yeah, seems logical" he smiled in return.

So the curry arrived half an hour later and the bottle of scotch was placed back in Victor's bedroom, where it had been hiding secretly for some time. I wasn't handling a drunk Victor at half 12 in the afternoon. One chicken korma, a prawn jalfrezi, some rice, poppadum's and mango chutney later, we were practically sprawled out on the sofa, stuffed from the curry and the day's events – so far! My heart was racing – I wasn't sure if it was the heat from the curry or my nerves. How would this end? Oh boy!

It was like my head and my heart were having a debate over what to do:

"Tell him honestly!"

"Nah, lead him on. Play a little hard to get!"

"What good would that do?"

"Drop some hints?"

"Tell the truth!"

"Ugh, why do relationships have to be so complicated?"

"Welcome to adulthood, girl."

In the end, I ignored those weird voices in my head, like there was another living thing inside my head. A tiny, little, annoying voice that I wish I could pull out.

"So…glad to be rid of her?" I asked Victor, who was staring at the ceiling, twiddling his thumbs together.

"Glad doesn't even cover it. Ecstatic more like!"

"She was that bad? She seemed so nice at the party." I said.

"Yeah, I agree. So fresh-faced, flawless, petite and perfect. But My Mum once said 'poison comes in small parcels'."

"Eh?" I asked.

"She was rather small, and she was poisonous…in several ways" Victor sighed.

"For a small girl, she can certainly pack a slap. Does your face still hurt?" I asked.

"Just a little. Though I think the alcohol has numbed it a bit. You could always kiss it better?" he smiled weakly.

"I think you've had enough to drink" I said.

"You don't want to kiss it better then?" he joked. Here we go!

"Well…" I began. Then realised what was beginning to happen. "Um…no, you're a big boy. Do it yourself."

"What?" he replied, a little shocked. "Well…after what happened last time, I thought you'd want nothing more to do with me. To be honest, I'm surprised you turned up today."

"I'm surprised myself. But then I realised…" I trailed off, leaving Victor hanging.

"Realised…?" he asked, leaning a little closer.

"Realised that we've come too far with these dreams to turn back now, just because of a little attempted kiss."

"Oh" he said, surprised. "That" he added.

"What else did you think it was?" I teased.

"Uh…nothing…ha ha…it's the alcohol talking. I become a completely different person after a glass of scotch…or two…or half the bottle" he awkwardly chuckled, turning his head away from me.

"I don't need alcohol to be a different person…all it takes is a series of weird dreams." A slight pause there for comical effect. "Ha! See what I did there?"

"Oh, ha yes!" he laughed. "I see." Silence again.

Good god this was tense…and awkward.

"You want a drink?" he offered. "Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?"

"No thanks. Alcohol this early will make me sleepy. I won't be awake to hear Charlotte's evening gossip. No doubt your break-up will be a major subject tonight."

"If she twists the truth, please set it straight. I don't like a bad image, especially around my friends. I value them too much to lose them."

"Someone's getting philosophical" I said.

"Yeah, well I've had half a bottle of scotch, what do you expect?"

"No need for sarcasm" I scoffed.

"It wasn't sarcasm" he said. Oh great, here comes the drunken rage.

"I don't know what to expect of you, I barely know you Victor."

"You know me enough" he sighed.

"I don't know the important things" I said.

"Like what? What do you call 'the important things'?"

"Uh, your birth date. Your favourite food or cuisine. Favourite music artist? Favourite TV shows? Favourite film or favourite colour."

He was silent. We were both silent, waiting for some sort of response. Nope, nothing. The room was deadly quiet once more. Two minutes passes. Two agonising minutes and he still said nothing. Then finally!

"March 13th, curry or sushi, My Chemical Romance, Doctor Who and Sherlock, I don't a favourite film, there are too many to choose from. And blue."

"Thanks. And I'm December 9th, but you knew that already. Italian, Nightwish and Paramore. Doctor Who and Family Guy. Titanic…and red and purple."

"Oh god, not Titanic" he sighed.

"Yep, Titanic. And don't start with the stupid 'the door could've taken both of them' theory. It's total crap!"

"I don't see how any of this information will be important to me" he began.

"It's important to know someone's birthday" I objected. "You could buy me a present?"

"What makes you think we'll be seeing each other if…once this dream thing is over?"

"This!" I cried out of no-where.

And there was my chance. He presented the opportunity and I took it…I kissed him!

He was silent and a little dazed, and the only reaction he could come up with, once I pulled away and looked him in the eyes, was:

"Oh!"

Authors note: Anyone notice the reference to the maggot from the film?

Enjoy! And please remember to review or comment!

Much love from the UK

Corpsegirl93 x


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

The next day:

Yep, I had kissed him! And I wasn't regretting it! Neither was he, actually. After the first kiss, he pulled me in to a second. Then a third…and fourth. Then before the fifth one came, I said his breath stank of alcohol and it was putting me off. What a way to kill the mood, ay?! Anyway, to cut the story short, we're keeping it quiet. The last thing we wanted was for Victoria to find out and twist that information around their separation.

Right now, I'm sitting in my flat, listening to my iPod as I await Victor's arrival. Today is another day of research. His last lecture was to finish at 2pm, it is now 2:20pm. He would arrive any minute now, so for the time being, I was enjoying my music.

Last night didn't bring another dream – Victor and I had realised the dreams were every 2 nights so tonight would bring more information. The only reason we chose to meet today was because of our lack of time together yesterday – what with the arguments and everything.

So here I sat, at the dining table with my laptop in front of me, looking on Google about any New Year's fireworks displays happening soon. Nice and cosy in my winter clothes, eyeing up the hot chocolate powder jar on the kitchen surface, counting the minutes until Victor turned up. Charlotte is out at her lectures and will return around 4pm. If Victor isn't gone by then, then I tell her everything that is going on – dreams, relationship, everything!

2:25pm – the doorbell rings! So there stands Victor in the doorway, with a packet of biscuits in his hand and his bag slung over his shoulder, shivering slightly from the cold.

"Bourbon?" he said.

"Good choice" I nodded, inviting him in.

"Nice place" he said, walking in and dropping his bag on the floor.

"Cheers. Charlotte and I got lucky, though I could argue that I prefer your place. What with the front door, and everything. Hot chocolate?" I offered, shutting the door behind me.

"Please" he smiled, glancing over at the laptop on the table. "Any more joy?"

"None" I said, boiling the kettle.

"Mind if I set up my laptop?" he asked.

"Go right ahead" I said, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard and spooning the chocolate powder in to them.

Victor set up his laptop, directly opposite mine and plugged it in to the wall. Pouring the water, stirring the chocolate and grabbing the biscuits, I set Victor's mug down next to him and his laptop as he typed in his password.

"Cheers" he smiled. "God, I love this" he added.

"Love what?" I asked.

"This. Hot chocolate, you, me, working together, warm and cosy at winter time" he shrugged.

"Yeah…there's nothing like researching weird dreams to get you in the mood for winter" I joked. And so, the work continued.

One hour later:

"The last dream saw us playing the piano together, in the pub. You don't play the piano, do you?" I said, typing at the laptop keys.

"I don't, no. Never did learn to play it. Too many keys" Victor shook his head, munching on a biscuit.

"Me too. OK, another dead end" I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"What happened to that woman? The Great Fire of London woman. What happened to her in the end?" Victor asked.

"That reached a dead end. She got all the information about it that she needed and stopped there. Carried on raising her kids as any mother would do."

"Do you think we're wasting our time? Do you think we'll reach a dead end?" he suggested.

"No" I answered immediately.

"Why? We're getting nowhere with this, Emily. As far as we know, we've both reached dead ends. I – unfortunately – was engaged to Victoria, and you were killed on your wedding night. What more can we find out?"

"Who killed me?" I suggested.

"True, but that person will be long dead by now. It's been _at least_ a hundred years! Why does it matter to you so much?"

"Because whoever killed Emily Hunter got away with murder. I know it's far too late to bring them to justice but…she's practically a part of me. I _was_ her. And I'd like some answers as to why an innocent, love-struck girl was taken by a monster." I sighed, my eyes never leaving the laptop screen. Victor stayed silent, like he'd struck a nerve and was trying not provoke me anymore.

"Sorry…just…got rather emotional" I sighed.

"Understandable" he whispered.

"Another hot chocolate?" I offered, as a slight peace offering.

"No, thanks. Tea, maybe?" he suggested.

"You read my mind" I smiled, standing from the table and grabbing our mugs.

"Can I have something else please?"

"What do you want?"

"A kiss" he smiled. The room fell silent as I looked down at him, sitting in the chair.

"Magic word?" I asked nicely, and teasing a little.

"Please" he flashed a cheeky smile as I smiled back and slowly leaned down towards him. Lips pursed, eyes closing gently, he took my chin in his hand and brought me closer to him. Just as our lips were about to brush…the sound of a key in the door lock.

Charlotte!

I didn't have time to react. By the time I looked round, still with Victors hand on my chin, Charlotte was standing in the doorway, mouth ajar and hand in mid-air as she retrieved her keys from the lock.

"Oh, I see" she raised her eyebrows.

"Charlotte! You're back early" I regained my posture and pulled away from Victor, who stared back at Charlotte like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"Yeah, our tutor fainted during the lecture; they cancelled at short notice. I was a little maddened, but now I'm glad I got home in time to see the action" she smiled cheekily.

"It's not what…oh, who am I kidding? It's _exactly_ what it looks like" I said, looking down at Victor.

"How long?"

"Less than 24 hours" I answered immediately.

"Does Victoria…?"

"I ended it" Victor interrupted.

"Oh. And what's with the laptops?"

"Research…for our project" I explained.

"What project?"

"You wouldn't believe us in a million years. Victoria didn't" Victor sad.

"I'm not Victoria. Try me" Charlotte said, shutting the door behind her and eyeing the last chocolate biscuit on the table.

"And now we're researching more" I finished explaining all to Charlotte. She was silent, her eyes focused on the floor as she took all of the information in. By now, we were sitting down on the sofas and chairs with fresh cups of tea in our hands.

"OK" Charlotte nodded, looking at me.

"What" Victor asked.

"I said OK. I believe you. Mainly because I know Emily has had these dreams since before you arrived" she said at Victor. "And I'm kinda glad that you're doing something about it, rather than let it torment you" she said to me directly.

"It was Victor's idea, actually. We recognised each other at my birthday party and the next day, we met up and Victor had the idea."

"And I'm assuming Victoria knows about this?" Charlotte looked to Victor.

"Oh yes, she knows about it. Though she didn't take it lightly" he said.

"She slapped him and accused him of being a bad boyfriend" I said.

"What a bitch" Charlotte practically cried. "Ah, I never liked her. Too pristine and perfect…too good to be true" she took a sip of her tea. "And now you're carrying on?" she eyed up the laptops.

"Yep. Though we're getting nowhere. But wait until tonight, no doubt we'll have another dream and that should bring us some more information" I sighed.

Not long after we finished our tea, Victor packed up his laptop and left the flat, with a goodbye kiss from me. Charlotte took that opportunity to have a good gossip before ordering pizza. Bed time arrived and I fell in to the sleepy daze, knowing another dream was on its way for both me and Victor.

And I was right. Not long after I dozed off, the dream began.

I'm standing outside a church, with two little skeleton children and each one is holding a little wicker basket filled with what looks like pink rose petals. Clasped in my hand is my bouquet of withered flowers – roses, lilies and babies breaths. Beautiful, even if they are dishevelled and dirty.

I can hear organ music from inside the church. The doors are wide open and there's a warm, inviting glow from inside. The familiar music echoes out through the door and the little children start walking ahead of me. The music…it's the wedding march! Which means…I'm getting married! And I didn't have to think about who was my groom. I could see the back of his head when I climbed the church steps, before he turned to face me.

The music carried on and the little children started laying the petals ahead of me, creating an official path towards my future husband. I simply followed, head bowed as I took my first steps down the aisle. This was haunting. I was getting married, but at the same time, I wasn't. Freaky!

I looked up, and there was Victor, staring at me with wide open eyes as he watched me grace the altar in my decaying dress. Behind him was an old skeleton, with a giant crack in his skull and moon-rimmed glasses balanced perfectly on the ridge of his bony nose. He held a tall, red bottle and beside it was a golden goblet. This was confusing, what was the bottle for?

Surrounding us, sitting in the church pews, were the various residents from the Land of the Dead, including little Scraps, the jazz singing skeleton, the cooks and the band. And some actual living people too! This confused me. What were the living doing with the dead? Ha! I could ask myself that same question.

And so, the music finished and I had arrived at the altar, Victor offering me his hand as he pulled me closer towards him and we stood side by side at the altar.

"Dearly beloved…and departed" said the old skeleton, gesturing to me as he said 'departed'. I could only smile, getting the subtle joke.

"We are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse, in marriage. Living first" he waved his hand towards Victor who turned to me, and raised his right hand in the air.

"With this hand" he began to speak. "I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine" he grabbed the goblet in his hand, raising it up but always keeping his eyes on me.

"Now you" the skeleton said to me. Wait, what? What was I supposed to say? I didn't know what I was supposed to say. Victor seemed to know – I'd ask him that later when we woke up – but what was I going to say? Turns out, I didn't need to worry, because these words came out of my mouth before I had the chance to think. All I did was repeat what Victor said. But this time, I grabbed the red bottle with my left hand, slowly pouring its ruby red liquid in to the goblet as I said:

"For I will be your wine." But then! My eyes caught sight of a moving object behind Victor. Something…someone…in white. It only took a split second to realise – it was Victoria! Victoria…in a wedding dress. A rather weird one, I'd say that. And as usual, her hair was up in a bun and her cheeks were flustered with pinky rose. She looked horrified. She hid concealed behind a stone pillar, watching me watching her.

"I will be…" the words were trapped in my throat. Victor stared at me, worry in his eyes.

"Go on, my dear" the skeleton encouraged me gently. He must've assumed it was wedding nerves.

"Your cup will never empty…for I will be…" I managed to say, my eyes darting back and forth between Victor and Victoria. Something inside of me felt wrong, very wrong. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't meant to happen. It couldn't and it shouldn't be happening. I had to do something.

"I will be your wine" Victor said, raising the goblet to his lips. I had no idea what was in that bottle – it looked like red wine – but I knew I had to stop Victor from drinking it. And I did. Just centimetres from the goblet touching his lips…and I placed my skeletal hand on the rim of the goblet, and slowly pushed it down. Victor looked at me, with such confusion and worry in his eyes. He knew something was wrong. Whispers from the audience behind us, all saying "she's having second thoughts" or "oh my!"

"I can't" I whispered to Victor.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning his head around to look behind him, but I stopped him. My skeletal hand found his face as I cupped his chin, and I looked him in the eye…and poured my heart out to him.

"This is wrong. I was a bride; my dreams were taken from me. But now…now I've stolen them from someone else." I may have been dead, but I was alive enough to feel a single tear trickle down my cheek. And this bit nearly broke my heart. "I love you, Victor. But you're not mine."

I broke my gaze from him, pulling my hand away from his face and turned to look at Victoria, who was now surprised to see that she'd been discovered. Victor saw her.

"Victoria?" he gasped, seeing her in her wedding dress. She walked forwards, watching as the crowd reacted in gasps and surprise as a second bride approached the altar. I reached for her hand, and she took it. With my right hand, I took hold of Victor's left hand and placed them both together. Two reunited as one. Victor and Victoria. As it should've been. There was complete silence all around, and the sight of a happy couple, gazing in to each other's eyes, completely in love.

But then…the silence was broken. A voice. A deep, sarcastic, manly voice came from the entrance of the church, echoing throughout. Everyone turned to see who it was. Victoria gasped in horror, the skeletons watched him grace the church with his presence and Victor watched in surprise as this mystery man slowly approached us at the altar.

"Oh, how touching…I always cry at weddings. Our young lovers together at last. Surely now, they can live happily ever after? But you forget…she's still my wife!"

He grabbed Victoria, hard and strong by her arm and forced her behind him, evil in his eyes as he faced us.

"I will not leave here empty handed."

CLICK! Like a switch in my head, an epiphany, a sudden moment of shock realisation, I said: "You!"

The man looked back at me, horror washing over his face, like he'd seen a ghost of the past. And it turns out, he had. His murderous past.

"Emily?"

"YOU!" I yelled.

"But I left you" he said, Victoria and Victor watching with wide open, horrified eyes as the truth finally came out.

"For dead" I whispered.

BANG! FIZZ! I woke up!

Oh my god…that…that man…he…he killed me! He killed Emily Hunter. Finally! Finally, after searching for so long, I had a face…but no name. Damn! Now what?


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

9:30am

Later that morning, after regaining some lost sleep, I arranged a meeting with Victor back at my flat. When he finally arrived, 40 minutes later, he said:

"Why do they finish just as we're getting to a good bit?!"

He was right. All the dreams ended as we were on the verge of finding out something new. Every time! Which meant we had to wait until tomorrow night before we got another dream, and therefore more answers. Ugh, this was frustrating. But Victor was calm the entire time. How I envied him.

Half past ten now:

"Quite creepy, ay?" I said.

"What?" Victor asked, grabbing two mugs from the kitchen cupboard.

"You and I seeing each other in our wedding clothes, and we've only just started dating" I chuckled lightly.

"If it's any consolation, despite being rotten, you looked beautiful in that dress."

"Despite the rotten ribs and skeletal hand?" I smirked.

He merely smiled, a cheeky smile that I couldn't deny was incredibly hot! Focus Emily, focus! Back to finding out who your killer is…ha! Out of context, that sounded hilarious!

"Quite a sight of Victoria though. In that dress" I added, shuddering at the thought of Victoria in that hideous wedding gown.

"Ha, yeah. For a moment, I thought she was trying to haunt me. Haunting me with her sadistic, messed up thoughts. But no. This all happened. Victoria interrupted my wedding to your corpse, and your murdering husband only added to the drama" he sighed, grabbing the kettle that had just finished boiling. I was sat at the table on my laptop, he was making the coffee – double strength, obviously.

"Ha! That sounds so crazy. Like something out of a film! If I can find a photograph of this man, then I'll know who he is. Then we can finally put this nonsense to rest."

"Nonsense? Despite the obvious, I've found this rather interesting. Gave us a project, and I met you" Victor smiled. Smooth talker!

"I'm flattered" I smiled cheekily, being thankful and sarcastic at the same time. Playing a little hard to get, even though I had 'got' him.

"Have you checked census records yet?" Victor asked, retrieving the kettle as it clicked.

"Doing it now. I don't know his name, how else will I be able to find a picture of him if I don't know his name?" I wondered.

"Filter it down. Search all the men who lived in the village in 1873 and 1875 – at the times of your murder and our wedding. Then check the pictures."

"Good idea" I smiled, powering up the laptop and watching Victor carefully stir the sugar in my coffee.

Ten minutes later:

"OK, filtered down. Year 1873, gender male, all ages. And here are all the names…29 results? Small village" I said, staring at the page on the history census website. Victor was sitting opposite me at the dinner table, doing his Christmas shopping, he told me.

"Any joy?" he asked after ten minutes. I had scrolled through 15 of the results, all of them were negative. They were either too old, too young or died shortly before Emily Hunter was murdered. 14 people left.

"Not really, but…I found someone vaguely familiar" I said, clicking on one particular person.

"Who is it?" Victor asked, leaving his seat and coming to stand behind me. He looked directly at the screen, absorbing the face that was now plastered on the page.

"His name is Christopher. Lord Christopher Hunter. He's Emily's father. Poor man" I sighed, a small tear brewing in my eye. I was coming virtual face-to-face with my previous father.

"Are you OK?" Victor asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. It was like he could feel my pain. I resonated the same pain I saw in Christopher's eyes. The pain of missing his daughter, longing to have her back in his arms and in his life.

"He died 4 years after Emily disappeared. Records say it was heart failure. He died of a broken heart."

"The poor man" Victor whispered.

My tears of sadness suddenly turned to tears of anger and hate. How could a simple being of a man, take another life in his own hands, for fortune and riches, not caring of the devastation and heartache he was leaving behind. And I had to find him.

"I have 13 people left now. This shouldn't take too long. What time is it?" I asked. Victor stared at his phone screen.

"Ten to eleven. You want another coffee? Maybe something stronger?" he offered.

"Too early for alcohol…for me, anyway. I'll have a fruit tea, thanks."

Victor picked up my dirty coffee mug and calmly walked away, his hand leaving my shoulder and leaving a cold patch. It gave me a chill. And so I soldiered on. Victor making more tea, I cracked my knuckles, circled my wrists and carried on scrolling down the list, getting rid of Christopher Hunter's picture – I couldn't look at those eyes any longer, it was breaking my heart.

The next three people were dead one week before Emily disappeared; two others were born two months before. 8 more to go! Number 8 – 5 years old at the time. Number 7 – 78 and retired accountant. Not him! Number 6 – aged 36, committed suicide the month after Emily died. It wasn't him.

Number 5 - *click*…

Good god. It was like someone had walked over my grave.

"Victor!" I screamed, as the picture popped up on the screen. He abandoned the kettle, leaving my mug half-filled and came sprinting towards me.

"What? What is it?!" he asked. All I did was point. Point at the laptop screen as I came face-to-face with my past killer. It was him.

The curve of the nose, the shape of his large bulging chin, his dark grey eyes, snow-white hair, riddled with streaks of grey and thin lips.

"That's him" I whispered.

"Lord Barkis Bittern" Victor read aloud. "Born 17th March 1839, died 1st December 1875, widowed once and re-married to…Victoria Everglot…the same day that he died. That is strange." He glanced over at me, seeing me frozen in my seat and glued to the picture on the screen.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm…uh…yeah, just…I've finally found him" I sighed. "After all this time. I know who killed me."

"Does it feel alright? Like, closure?" Victor asked, holding my hand that sat frozen on the table.

"Not yet. I'm sure it will soon. What were you saying?"

"Lord Barkis died on the 1st December 1875, the same day he remarried to Victoria Everglot."

"He married Victoria?"

"The day after I disappeared. Oh my god, it all makes sense now!" Victor rejoiced.

"Go on" I said.

"OK, just a theory. So, Lord Barkis has murdered you in 1873, he lives in the same village as Emily Hunter, the Van Dorts and the Everglots, spending the earnings he received from his widow's inheritance – sorry. Two years later, he hears that the Everglots plan to marry their daughter Victoria to the Van Dorts son. He hears about this in the newspaper article dated from the 29th of November that we found in the library. On the 30th of November, he makes a move and Victor disappears, running away and accidentally bringing Emily Hunter back from the grave. The same day, Victor Van Dort is still missing from the village and therefore the wedding to Victoria…so…"

"So?" I asked.

"So…without a groom, the bride's parents resort to finding a new eligible husband. And who should they think of, but the ideal candidate who – as if by magic – appeared one day before the ceremony. Lord Barkis. I think…Barkis intended to marry Victoria, murder her like he did with Emily Hunter and accept the inheritance to spend at his own free will. He's a murdering gold digger."

"But what stopped him killing Victoria? They got married, didn't they?" I asked.

"Our wedding. Sorry, Emily and Victors wedding, in the church with the living dead. That must've been on the 1st of December 1875. Victoria is forced to marry Barkis, Victor returns to marry Emily and Victoria interrupts the ceremony, shortly followed by Barkis. He then dies, how I don't know."

"Interesting theory. But why would Victor run away from the wedding rehearsals?" I thought.

"Something must've scared him away. The in-laws?" he joked.

I had to laugh. We'd seen pictures of the Everglot parents in the newspaper – faces as tough as nails, and not a single emotion present.

"Something made him run away from the wedding rehearsal. I don't remember a dream about it. Either way, he ran away and ended up in the woods" Victor sighed.

"But how did Lord Barkis die?" I wondered.

"I guess we'll find that out in the next dream. If he died the same day as the wedding ceremony, it's only a matter of waiting."

"Until we fall asleep" I nodded.

And so we had waited.

40 hours later, I had said goodnight to Charlotte and headed off to my bed, not knowing what the dream had in store for me and Victor. And so, as my head hit the pillow and I slowly drifted off to sleep, the dream began…


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen:**

"But…I left you" Lord Barkis said, suddenly aware of how everyone was watching.

"For dead" I whispered, listening to the shocked gasps and cries from the living and the dead as the truth was revealed.

I was standing face to face with my killer, and in his arms he held his next victim. Victoria was panicking, now she knew the truth of who this man was and what he was capable of. And he picked up on it too; he grabbed her forcefully with both hands and started dragging her towards the church doors. The crowd of living and dead slowly rose from the church pews, like a tidal wave, but Barkis was quick. He noticed the skeleton general next to him, his sword protruding from his stomach and used it to his advantage.

With one swift move, he grabbed hold of the sword, drew it out of his body and whipped it up to Victoria's throat.

"Sorry to cut things short, but we must be on our way!" he said, murder in his evil eyes. Victoria was close to tears, shaking like a leaf in the wind, her rosy cheeks now the colour of snow as she eyed Victor at the altar, praying for a miracle to save her. But Victor was not having any of this nonsense.

"Take…your hands off her" he calmly but forcefully instructed. You could tell by the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice – he was mad!

Barkis simply rolled his eyes, lowering the sword from Victoria's throat and holding it at Victor's belly, the tip just grazing his suit jacket.

"Do I have to kill you too?" he said.

There was a moment of silence! The church was awaiting what would happen next – would Barkis kill Victor or attempt to usher Victoria away? Neither, it turned out. Someone got to him before anyone else could. Barkis let out a scream of pain as little dog Scraps sunk his teeth in to his ankle and held on like his life depended on it. No one was going to hurt his master!

This gave Victoria the opportunity to flee. As Barkis let go of her, she fled towards…me?! Why was she coming towards me?! Why not go to Victor?! I didn't seem to care! I watched her run towards me, as Barkis shook off Scraps and sent him flying across the church – poor dog! It was OK though, he was just bones, someone would reassemble him. But right now, we needed to focus our attention on this sword-wielding murderer.

With open arms and an offering hand, Victoria sprinted towards me as fast as her wedding gown would let her, falling to my side and seeking protection.

"Victor! Catch!" the cook yelled, grabbing hold of a weapon from her husband's rotting back – I noticed how several kitchen utensils were poking out of him – sharp knives, a wooden spoon, carving tools and forks. She sent something flying through the air towards Victor, watching him catch it.

It was a fork….ah crap!

"Sorry" she cried in apology, as Barkis set his eyes on Victor, lunging at him with the sword in a fit of anger. Victor wasn't sure how to react – it was either run or fight. He chose to fight, but rather poorly to begin with. He ducked every swing, dodged the blade each time Barkis lunged at him. His first duck resulted in Barkis falling against the altar table, where the old skeleton still stood, watching every moment. As Barkis collided with the table, the skeleton clasped his hands around the golden goblet that Victor was about to drink from…what was that stuff? It looked like red wine, but judging by the skull on the bottle – which I'd never noticed before – it meant something more deadly…oh my god, it was poison! It all made sense now!

Victor was going to drink it, he was meant to die as we married. But I had stopped him. I had seen Victoria and knew that I couldn't tear away a man from his true love. I stopped him dying, and sacrificed my own love for his.

And that goblet was still filled with poison, but the cries of Barkis attacking Victor brought me back to attention. They were fighting around a stone pillar, Victor on the opposite side as Barkis attempted to strike him, but with no luck.

Victor – on the other hand – managed to use that measly fork to some advantage. He poked Barkis in the bottom, making him scream like a girl. But that only angered him, and he swung ferociously with a back-handed move and narrowly missed Victors head, cutting through the chef's tall hat, as Paul the head waiter cried in French.

"Ah, sucre bleu!"

Victoria and I continued to watch from the side, there was nothing more we could do. They continued to swing, dive, lunge and attack until Barkis cornered Victor in to a church pew, swinging the sword but missing! The sword became lodged in the wood of the pew, and Victor saw his opportunity – but he was a man that couldn't kill, only harm or aggravate. He did just that. He struck Barkis' suit with the fork, tearing at the fabric and leaving three slits along the bodice. Barkis was mad! That must've been an expensive suit. Judging by his reaction, it only angered him more. He raised the sword and brought it down towards Victor, but he managed to defend himself in time, trapping the sword between the prongs of the fork. Victor dived, disappearing under the pew. We couldn't see him, all we saw was Barkis mounting the pew and forcing the sword through the wood of the seat, trying to get at Victor. He struck once, then twice, but before the third, Barkis lost his balance and toppled on to the pews, knocking them down like dominoes.

Victoria and I rushed back before we were knocked down, me taking Victoria by the arm and hurrying her back. No sign of the boys, where were they?

From no-where, Victor popped up and hurried towards the altar, looking around him the entire time for the murderer he was facing. Lord Barkis took him by surprise, swung at him as Victor turned around to face him. But he was too late.

Barkis swung the sword at the fork, knocking it out of Victor's hand, leaving him defenceless. To add to injury, he kicked Victor – hard in the stomach, knocking him back and forcing him on to the stone steps of the altar. But before Victor could rise and attempt to retrieve his 'weapon', Barkis was already there, bearing down on him like a tiger eyeing its prey.

He brought the sword to Victor's eye, knowing exactly what to do next. Victor knew too, the look in his eyes revealed all. He was scared. Victoria and I screamed in horror as Barkis drew his arm back, gripping the sword tighter than before and aiming for Victors chest.

But before anything else could happen, I had an idea.

I ran! I ran like my life depended on it, Victor in my sights as he watched Barkis make his move. As he lunged once more, the sword slicing through the air so effortlessly, I took my place…in front of Victor.

The entire church gasped in horror, silence then falling as everyone watched and waited to see what had happened. I stood there, tall and proud, watching Barkis stand back in horror, the sword free from his hands. Victor and Victoria gasped, in both horror and delight. I faced Barkis no longer as the weak and feeble bride he had killed, but as the strong and independent woman, fighting and sacrificing for the man I loved, though in this previous life, I had lost him.

With one swift move, I took hold of the sword – sticking out of my hollow skeletal stomach – drawing it out and pointing it at Barkis' face. He merely smirked, he knew he had lost but he didn't want to admit defeat so easily, so he turned on his sly, arrogant behaviour that – even though I was dead – made me shiver inside.

"Touché, my dear" he smirked.

"Get out" I ordered. I could hear Victor behind me, quickly making his retreat towards Victoria, both keeping her safe and getting away from the danger. He watched Lord Barkis move around the church, taunting me as he laughed.

"Oh, I'm leaving" he teased. He slowly walked to the altar, eyeing up the goblet. The sword never left him, I was following his every move. He chuckled all the way to the altar, grabbing hold of the goblet as the old skeleton moved away, back to the crowd that formed behind me, watching everything.

"But first, a toast. To Emily. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride!" he smiled evilly. I lowered the sword, still standing tall but letting my defences slowly slip away as he mocked me. He towered over me and looked me in the eye.

"Tell me, my dear. Can a heart still break once it's stopped beating? Hmm?" he laughed even more, that small chuckle under his breath that only I could hear. A silent form of torture and humiliation.

He was right though. Though I was dead, and my heart long gone, I could feel it breaking. I had lost my heart to the wrong man, then on my second chance of love, gave it away to the man I truly loved, for him to love another woman.

I could hear the crowd behind me, slowly gathering.

"Let me at him! Let me at him, no…no, don't hold me back!" I heard a little voice cry, as the tiny green maggot tried to get past the old skeleton.

"No! Wait! We must abide by their rules. We are amongst the living" the wise old skeleton instructed. He obviously meant that they couldn't intervene. Barkis was still alive and as long as he was, he couldn't be touched by the dead. This meant that ultimately, he had won.

He was about walk out of this church and carry on his own business. He smiled once more, talking to the skeleton but always keeping his eyes on me.

"Well said" he said, raising the goblet high and smiling at me for one last time.

And in one swift gulp, he necked down the entire contents of the goblet…oh my goodness. He thought it was wine. Drinking it dry and tossing the goblet to his side, Barkis sighed with a glutton delight as he finished his 'wine' and started sauntering away, so happy with his triumph over me. Sure, he didn't win the fight but he won the battle over me. He had got his treasure when he murdered me and stole my heart, and now he was rubbing it in my face.

Well, he did. But not for long.

Mere seconds after he walked away, he had approached a vestry door with the intention of leaving…but he cried and screeched in agony as his heart seized to beat and he doubled over in pain.

"Not anymore" said the little maggot from behind me. He was so obviously pleased to see that the tables had turned. Barkis was no longer alive. It was confirmed when he turned around to face us all, his skin as blue as ice and his eyes as yellow as old parchment paper. His eyes were so incredibly wide, he stared at me, the old skeleton, Victor, Victoria and the rest of the living dead. He too knew what was to happen now.

"Yep, you're right. He's all yours" the old skeleton waved his right hand in dismissal and allowed the dead to pass him. Everyone was smiling with glee, delight and hunger. Hunger for revenge, pain and comeuppance. The maggot ran his tongue over his teeth – hungry. The skeleton general ran his bone fingers over his precious sword – hungry for pain. And my dead friends smiled with delight that they could have their way with my murderer.

Barkis screamed in horror, backing up to the door and trying to escape, but failing. In the rush of the moment, I saw Victor and Victoria had moved to stand alongside me. As the dead piled in to the vestry that Barkis had failed to escape through – which glowed a glorious luminous green, a gateway back to their world – Barkis' screams were heard echoing in that tiny space, as Victoria covered her eyes and snuggled in to Victor's jacket, to avoid the horror that unveiled before her.

The cook was the last to enter the vestry. In her hand, she held the same fork from earlier and the other grabbed the door handle, slowly closing it behind them. She smiled with evil glee, before looking at us and said with darkness and evil in her eyes:

"New arrival."

And with that, she shut the door with a firm slam…and silence echoed throughout the church, as if nothing had ever happened.

The old skeleton returned to the altar, picking up the goblet and pushing the cork in to the poison bottle. Victor and Victoria had walked away just moments before the door shut, leaving me to watch my killer finally get his comeuppance. I finally had some closure. And it felt fantastic!

They now stood near the altar, like the perfect wedding couple they were. Victor cradled Victoria in his arms, like a precious treasure. She snuggled close and ran her hand over his suit jacket, smiling to herself.

"Oh Victor" she sighed. "I never thought I'd see you again." Victor didn't reply, he simply smiled. As did I. I had made that happen. Despite the agony of heartache, I could feel a small glow of warmth within me. The first time since I was dead that I could feel warmth, not cold. Or maybe…or maybe it wasn't because I had reunited them. Maybe it was…? Could be. It could be that my killer just died – a rather excruciating death – and I was now feeling the results.

It was at that moment that I saw the church doors wide open, the glowing moonlight seeping in, like an inviting spotlight. Beckoning me closer…like it was the only important thing left to do. And so, I began walking. My heels clicking on the stone floor and my eyes fixed on the moon. But Victor stopped me in my tracks.

"Wait!" he called. I heard him, but I kept walking, ever so slowly.

"I made a promise" he said, gently letting go of Victoria and approaching me. I stopped, turned to face him and smiled once again.

"You kept your promise. You set me free" I said. I found myself looking down at my left hand, my right slowly rising to meet it. I saw myself remove the wedding ring from my finger, taking hold of Victor's hand, and placing it in his palm. Folding his fingers over it and placing my own hand upon his to seal the deal, I whispered:

"Now, I can do the same for you."

Well, this was it. Turning away from Victor and continuing to walk, I caught sight of my bouquet that somehow made its way on to one of the church pews. Ah, the little skeleton boy must've taken it from me when I was marrying Victor, and held on to it before the fight broke out, leaving it behind as he returned 'downstairs'. Ah well, here goes. I picked it up, took it firmly in my grasp and headed for the doors.

The moonlight was ever so beautiful, so warm, inviting, comforting. Like one giant soft blanket. I approached it with such awe and assurance. I knew what I was doing was the right thing. The moonlight just inches away from me, I turned to see Victor and Victoria, still standing at the altar and watching me. A few members from the living town were watching me too. Some old man with a ludicrous moustache, an elderly maid and some widow, I presumed – all dressed in black. I chose then to act as any bride would, and throw my bouquet over my head. With any luck, Victoria would catch it. Well, she did…eventually. The first attempt, the widow caught it…and she re-threw it when the maggot appeared on her shoulder and smiled cheekily.

The second time, Victoria caught it, so effortlessly. She smiled, taking hold of it and looking up to Victor, so content and happy with the man she loved. He smiled back at her, placing an arm around her, acknowledging how he would keep her safe.

For one final time, he looked at me.

I looked at him, smiling. This was the last time I'd see him…in this life anyway. For one final time, I turned away and walked in to the moonlight.

It felt more like I floated in to the moonlight. So elegantly, gracefully and effortlessly. I spread my arms wide and behind me, like a wannabe angel as I took one final look at the sky, knowing that that was where I was going.

The sky.

Free as a bird. Free from harm. Free from anger and hurt and pain. And it felt so good. With every passing second, I could feel my body getting lighter and lighter. And it wasn't until my eyes caught sight of these little blue butterflies that I knew what was truly happening.

I was being set free.

The warmth within me glowed like a roaring fire in winter.

I took one final breath…and sighed heavily, closing my eyes and letting the warmth consume me. The butterflies scattered around me, as I was enveloped by them and I became them as one. Every inch of my once-dead body was now a beautiful blue butterfly.

A symbol of love, life, resurrection, freedom and my soul. I was free!

Free, at last!

And so, leaving Victor and Victoria behind to watch me in awe, I flew to the sky.

Nothing was going to stop me.

Not even death.

And then, I woke up. I looked at my clock. 5:30am, 30th December. I sat up and looked around. It all made sense. Lord Barkis' death had given me my freedom. An eye for an eye. A life for a life, quite literally.

All the emotions for the Hunter family, for Emily's tragic ending, for the endless questions and (finally!) the answers. I had answers, after so long! With that, I did what I had wanted to do for so long.

I fell back on to the pillow of my bed…and I cried.

Authors words:

Hi guys!

Greetings from the UK! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, but if you know the film, you knew what was going to happen anyway, I just wanted to write this one out rather than skip it.

Gotta say, got kinda emotional there as I wrote Emily's final scene. Had the music playing in my head and everything *sniff* *grabs a tissue*

And! I did my research on this last bit. Apparently, a butterfly is a symbol of resurrection, change, hope, life and soul. How beautiful is that?!

The final chapter(s) won't be posted until after Christmas, but hopefully before New Year's Eve. And I can confirm that, as one of my many 2016 resolutions, the sequel to my Corpse Bride story 'Reunited', shall be written and 'published' in 2016. When? I'm not sure exactly. But it'sa happenin'.

Merry Christmas – Feliz Navidad – Happy Holidays – Joyeux Noel!

And a Happy New Year!

With love,

Corpsegirl93


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

7am: I woke up, finding that damp tears had stained my pillowcase, and my eyes were so puffed up, it was like I had watched Marley and Me for the first time again! I lay in bed for a little longer, trying to muster up the energy to try and get up and 'seize the day!' But I couldn't.

10am: Victor texted me. He wanted to come round and see how I was.

Ten minutes later, he was standing outside my door with a large pack of biscuits in one hand, and a bottle of gin in the other. I frowned slightly at the gin bottle.

"It's too early for alcohol, but I figured after last night, you'll need a drink." He noticed me in my pyjamas and smiled.

"You know me too well" I chuckled lightly, trying to smile. He slowly closed the door behind him as I threw myself on to the sofa, lying down and resting my head on the arm rest. He sat down next to me and placed the items on the coffee table, then placing his hand on my feet.

"Can I do anything?" he asked. "Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?"

"You said it was too early" I sighed.

"Not under these circumstances" he added, grabbing the gin and walking to the kitchen. I heard the sound of cupboard doors opening and the bottle cap coming off the gin, followed by the glorious sound of it being poured in to a glass and the fizzing of bubbles. Victor returned to the sofa with two glasses in his hands, offering one to me.

"I'm assuming you like gin and tonic" he smiled.

"You assume correct" I replied, sitting up on the sofa and taking a large swig of my drink. "How much sleep did you get last night?" I asked.

"Not a lot. I stayed up when the dream finished. I would've called but my phone was charging. I tried to distract myself by playing computer games...that was 5 hours ago and I'm still thinking about that dream!"

"Me too. But at least we know what happened now. You married Victoria, my killer got his comeuppance, and I was freed from death. I should be jumping for joy" I moaned.

"So why are you not?" Victor asked. I shrugged in response. I had an idea why I was so miserable.

"I think it's because I still feel sorry for Emily. Like she's still a part of me. Like even though she's dead, she's not letting go. Clinging on to the last remaining elements of life, like she's hoping for another chance. God, how depressing I sound right now!" I scoffed, taking another sip of the cocktail and letting the alcohol sink in to my system and slowly take effect.

"Let's try and think about more positive things, shall we? What are your plans for tomorrow night?" He asked.

"A small gathering here tomorrow. Me, Charlotte and whoever wants to turn up. You're invited, of course, but bring your own booze. And there'll be cake too."

"Oh I'll be there" Victor smiled. "What a way to finish the year, ay?"

"How?" I wondered.

"Well, the dreams are over. Aren't they? We can finish with these nightmares and look forward to a new year. More essays, student bills, take-aways and maybe a back-packing trip across Europe" Victor sighed.

"How do you know the dreams are over?" I asked, looking over at him.

"Isn't it obvious? They clearly stated who we were in a past life, and since your 'past-self' has now moved on, there's no reason for there to be another dream. Unless I have to carry on dreaming every married day with Victoria...good god, I hope not!"

The only reaction I could give to that was laughing. I could see it, Victor having sleepless nights over living with Victoria. Ha!

"OK, fair point. But I still feel like there's more to this. Like there's something else left to be done." I paused, letting the silence engulf the flat, just the sound of the clock tick-tocking and the fridge humming deeply to be heard.

"Did we ever find out where Emily was buried?" I asked.

"I don't think there was an official headstone, seeing as she was never found. Just the spot in the woods where she was murdered. Under the oak tree, wasn't it?" Victor explained.

"Yeah. That wasn't too far from here, was it?" I thought.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking...why?!"

"To pay my respects? She and I were the same person, once upon a time" I said. "And like you said, what a way to finish the year! Leave the dreams behind and look forward to a new year, one without nightmares about rotting corpses, Victorian weddings and the afterlife."

"Sounds logical, I suppose. When would you go?" he asked. I wondered, today was too last minute and I had work to do. And tomorrow...yeah, tomorrow. New Years Eve. It was a plan.

"I'll go tomorrow afternoon. Before the party starts" I nodded.

And so, I planned my trip out perfectly, right down to the name of the shop where I'd buy the flowers from - Tulips Galore, if you're curious to know.

Victor dropped me off at the bus station at 9am that morning, giving me a hug before I climbed on board and took my seat. I was thankful for heated coaches at that point - the New Year's Eve chill was making my fingers turn numb. The journey only took an hour, giving me enough time to catch up on some sleep and enjoy the cosy warmth. When I arrived, everyone was alighting for the supermarket and the tourist attractions nearby. I headed off in the opposite direction to everyone. I had it all mapped out from my research on the Internet. How long it would take me to walk there, how much the flowers would cost and how cold it was going to be today.

10:30am, I made my quick visit to the flower shop. I was going to buy proper flowers, not cheap tat from the supermarket. And I was sticking to tradition and to what my dreams had taught me. Red roses, white lilies and some babies breath flowers - exactly what Emily had in her own bouquet. The florist looked a little strangely at me.

"These are a beautiful choice" she commented, wrapping the flowers in cellophane.

"Thank you."

"Would you like a message card with these?" She asked. A little stunned and curious, I said:

"Um...yes please."

"Who are these for? Mum? Sister? Boyfriend?"

I wondered how I could answer that question without sounding weird. Imagine it:

"They're for the gravestone of a corpse bride who I used to be in my previous life" - ha! Just thinking about it made me want to laugh out loud. So I chose to answer with:

"An old friend."

£30 later, I was on my way to the forest. Victor was right; the village had been demolished years ago to make way for the supermarket that now dominated the landscape. Ugh, ugly! But I could envisage the village in my head - like a ghost town, misty images in my mind of beautiful Victorian buildings and mansions, little children playing in the cobbled streets, and Emily Hunter leaning out of her balcony to witness it all happening below. I could see her. So beautiful...such a shame.

But some things hadn't changed. The church was still standing. The church where Victor and Emily had prepared to marry, and where Lord Barkis met his fate and Emily was freed. It was so old and withered, but still in use.

I spontaneously decided to make a shortcut via the church, and quickly hurried inside as a big winter wind came along and rustled my hair around my face, making my cheeks sting with the cold.

The church was in need of some repair. There were cracks in the stained glass windows, the pews were splintering in places, and the thick wooden doors were rusting at the hinges, making them squeak and squeal as I walked in, shutting them behind me. I may have shut the winter air out, but I could feel this chill in the air.

It crossed my mind - the last time I was in this church...I was getting married. And I was dead. Haha!

Trying my best not to relive the past, I began walking down the aisle, listening to my footsteps echo on the stone floor. No one was around, not even a vicar, but I liked that. No one to disturb me as I remembered the past.

Clutching the flowers in my hand, like a bride, I continued to grace the altar, always keeping my eyes on the altar table...then glancing over at the wooden door where Lord Barkis had...well, just thinking about it made my stomach churn.

I could picture Victor standing at the altar, in his smart suit and his hair tousled about, reaching out for me to take his hand. I was tempted to re-enact the dream and reach for him, accepting his hand. But something stopped me. Was someone else here? Maybe the ghost of Lord Barkis, assuming I was Emily Hunter, trying to drag me down in to death with him….I've seen too many horror films!

I couldn't tell, but I did feel like someone was watching me. Maybe this was a bad idea. Making a silent excuse to myself that a 'holy service' was about to begin, I headed back for the door, clutching the flowers even tighter.

Oh boy, even as I opened the doors and stood in the doorway, deja vu came and slapped me in the face. I'd been here before. Emily's final moments of existence happened right in this spot, where my feet were placed. The only difference being the time and the clothes. But still the same person standing in that spot. Uh, spooky!

Taking a deep breath and sighing out loud, I took a step forward, down the steps one-by-one and headed towards the forest.

Ten minutes later:

The forest was a large place, but to my luck, all the trees were different to the one I was looking for. These were fir trees – tall and thin – and I was looking for a large, thick oak tree. I questioned my route many times, thinking I was lost and considered turning back a few times. But despite the difference in years, the forest looked very much the same.

I noticed the river that was frozen when Victor ran across it to escape me, the old gravestones marking the deceased from centuries ago, and these little hills I had run over to pursue Victor when he awoke me.

And finally, after half an hour of searching, I found it. I found the tree.


	17. Chapter 16 - The Finale

**Chapter Sixteen:**

I don't know what I was more freaked out by. The fact that I'd found the tree where I had been buried, or the fact that it was exactly as it looked from the dreams.

Tall, bent over and crooked in places. It was like I was back in my dream all over again. Except I wasn't. And that's what scared me so much.

The chill in the winter air didn't help either. Every so often the wind would creep up from behind me and whip my hair around my face, grazing my frozen cheeks and numbing my fingers even more. So much so, I was worried I would drop the bouquet of flowers, but I managed to grip them tighter. Taking a deep breath, I held the flowers to my chest and slowly approached the tree. I was glad no one was around at that moment, to see me do this. They would probably think I was mad! It calmed me to know that I had some privacy.

Time alone, just me and the tree.

It towered over me like a biblical giant, reminding me how small I was in comparison. Did Emily feel this way the night she was murdered? Was she intimidated by the tree? I didn't know. The dreams began when Victor discovered me buried here, and then woke me up. What happened to Emily before she died was a complete mystery to me. All I knew was that her body was never found, her father died of a broken heart and her killer got away with it…well, for some time anyway.

So I was facing the old oak tree, examining every twisted branch and its crooked roots that spurted from the ground. The ground was dotted with left-over specks of snow, and frosted reeds of grass poked out of the ground. It was beautifully gothic. Until…

For a brief moment I had forgotten why I was here…until I saw the hole in the ground.

The hole was about a metre wide, opening up like an abyss. It was deep, about 6 or 7 feet. I could see the bottom but I had to bend over to get a closer look.

And this was where I had been buried.

A bitter, cold-hearted man had broken my heart, stolen my riches, betrayed my trust and left my body behind, without a care in the world. The heart-less scoundrel. There were much harsher words I could think of to call him, but I wasn't here to remember him. I was here to remember dear Emily Hunter.

I swept my jacket under my backside and slowly knelt down on to the winter ground, sitting comfortably and crossing my legs, my jacket keeping me warm underside.

I wasn't sure what to do, other than place the flowers near the hole in the ground. It didn't have an official mark of a gravestone, but once upon a time, someone was buried here. I was buried here.

"This doesn't seem real" I said to myself. "None of this seems real."

I had to break the silence somehow, it was killing me. So I laid the flowers down by the hole and placed my hands in my lap, keeping them warm as I sat there. I had to do more than just sit here. So I pretended Emily Hunter was with me. Like she was standing behind me in a spirit form, in her beautiful dress with her flowing hair and gazing down upon me, knowing why I was here and smiling.

I dared to look around and see if I was dreaming it or not, but I didn't.

"I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say. I'm sorry for you. You didn't deserve any of it. No one should have their life taken because of the wrong man. I know what I've seen through your eyes was only a fraction of the pain you went through. I cannot even begin to imagine the full extent of it. Oh boy" I sighed. This was harder than I thought.

"I sort of wish you could talk back to me. To hear your voice, see you in the flesh. Like you're a completely separate person to me…but I know that's not true. I am you. And you were me. Just in a different life. I am your reincarnation effectively.

And my boyfriend is the reincarnation of your Victor. Yeah, that's right. Ironic, isn't it? That two people in the past should fall for one another in that life, and the next. Sounds like a fairy-tale romance, but without the happy ending you wanted. Maybe I can have that happy ending for you?"

There was silence through the forest. The sun shining upon me and the tree made it warmer, the sound of the church bells echoing from far away – I took it all in and smiled. Despite its horrible and dark background, this was a beautiful place. Not necessarily to be buried in, but a place for sanctuary. To be alone with your thoughts. A place to rest and escape to.

"Are you actually here Emily? I wish you were. In any shape or form. I'm no devoted Christian or church-goer but…I feel like you're watching me. From above, maybe? In the spirit world? If you are, maybe send me a sign?"

Well, part of me was right at that. Because no more than ten seconds later, something fluttered past the ray of sunshine above my head, catching my attention.

A butterfly. A single butterfly was fluttering down and landed on one of the branches of the tree. It then fluttered closer to me, landing only four feet away. It was blue.

"Oh. Look at that." I smiled, looking up at the ray of sunshine.

"I'll take that as a sign" I chuckled. In that moment, I had an idea. Keeping my eye on the butterfly, I reached over to the bouquet of flowers and grabbed a single red rose, pulling it out by the stem. I held it forward in my left hand, as a sort of offering to the butterfly.

"This is for you" I smiled.

The butterfly wavered for a bit, staying on a single branch before fluttering over to me and landing on the rose.

"I know they're your favourite."

The butterfly stayed on the rose for some time, indulging in its sweet smell, before fluttering away and landing on the rest of the bouquet, occasionally hopping from one flower to another.

"Can't deny, you have a great taste for flowers" I smiled. "So what now?" I wondered out loud.

No one responded, not even the butterfly. It continued to sit on the flowers. How I wish it could talk back to me.

"I can't think of anything else to say…maybe that's it? What do I do now?" I thought.

I paused, thinking silently for many minutes, ideas rushing to and fro in my head.

I came to a final conclusion, piecing together the puzzle of the dream and deciding what was going to happen.

"OK, Emily. I'll tell you what I'm going to do now" I raised my head to look up at the branches of the tree, imagining Emily was looking down directly upon me.

"I'm going to walk away from this place, this enchanting forest and this beautiful tree…and I'm going to live my life…and yours too.

I'm going to go home, tell my boyfriend – and your former husband – that I love him, so much. I'll tell him that, though it's been a short time, I want to stay with him forever. I want to be his wife, his best friend and have his kids. I'll love him enough for both of us, I'll have our children, and you can watch them grow from above. I'm going to explore the world, no matter how poor I am. I'm going to see as much as possible…and why?

Because your life was cut short, and seeing as you and I are the same person, we'll live this life together. And you can experience the joys of the modern life, the adrenaline of living and see what you missed because of that evil man. And we'll grow old together. We'll watch the children grow and have their own, watch them fly the nest and conquer the world, and I'll tell them about you.

I'll tell them about this wonderful woman, a woman who shares the same name as their Mum and watches from above in the sky, like an angel.

How does that sound? You like that idea?"

Obviously, there was no direct answer. The butterfly had remained on the flower bouquet the entire time, occasionally fluttering its wings. Until it finally took off and flew close to my face, landing delicately on my left arm.

"I'll take that as a yes" I smiled, keeping my eyes locked on the butterfly, before it flew away. It flew above the tree and behind it, briefly disappearing, before emerging seconds later and flying higher in to the sky, towards the radiating sunlight.

"Thank you Emily" I said.

I rose from the ground, taking in my surroundings for one more time. It wasn't the final time, though. No doubt about it, I knew I'd return here in the future, for whatever reason.

I left the flowers there, anyone who found them will assume the correct – that someone loved and treasured had died there, and someone was paying their respects.

Smelling the air and digging my hands in to my pockets, I started to leave. This was a big moment. I was leaving this past behind and looking to the future, whatever it involved.

And truth be told, I was excited!

Excited for what my life would become. I already knew who I was, I had seen it several times in my dreams. I was a girl with a second chance at life. I had learnt how to trust and who not to trust. I had seen what pain and betrayal could do, and what pure love felt like. And I loved it! Every single bit of it!

Through the dreams, I had realised how short life can be, and death was a way of saying "hurry up and live while you can, don't waste a day!"

I took one final look at the tree, admiring its height once more, thinking of what to say.

"Take care Emily" I sighed. That as all I could think of. But it was enough.

All of it was enough. I didn't need money, status or diamonds to make me happy.

Just being alive was all I needed. Having learnt who I used to be helped me realise that.

Walking away from the tree and facing the future, I took my first of many steps back home.

This was the end of the dreams. But it was also the beginning of my future.

My future with Emily.

I could hardly wait to get started. There is so much to be done!

The End.

Authors note:

Hey guys!

So, that's it! This is the ending of the story.

But in the ways of the story, as one story ends, another begins. A sequel!

Any fans of my debut story 'Reunited' will be pleased to hear that the sequel is in 'pre-production' – 'Reunited 2' is coming (FYI, that's not the actual title!)

It feels weird to finally end this story. It's been going on for just over a year – It's true, I wrote the Introduction chapter in November 2014. And now it is complete! Ta-da!

As always, please review and comment, it always makes me happy to hear your responses.

It helps to fuel my passion for writing.

A belated Happy 2016 to you all! Let's make it a brilliant year!

Love from the UK!

Corpsegirl93 :D xxx


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